


thoughts so loud, i couldn't hear my mouth

by japhanforever



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Depression, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5265605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/japhanforever/pseuds/japhanforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan’s entire goal is to make it through university unnoticed. He doesn’t want to have to answer to anyone when he has a breakdown or explain his emotions to someone. He doesn’t want to be someone’s burden. However, Phil Lester doesn’t seem to be picking up on his “seriously do not talk to me” vibes and just won’t leave him alone. Who knew the one time he would actually make a friend would be when he was desperately trying not to?</p><p>Warnings:  Depression, Implied homophobia, One instance of physical violence, mostly depression</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is loosely based on/ inspired by lyrics off the album Good News For People Who Love Bad News by Modest Mouse. Idk why I decided that would be the theme, but I did. Also, this is the longest fic I’ve ever written and actually FINISHED, and it was super ambitious in the beginning and I don’t know if I like how it turned out, but I worked too hard not to publish. So... here goes nothing. 
> 
> Just other things: Pining, College AU, it takes place in present day but Dan and Phil are 19 and 23 bc that was easier for me to deal with tbh, and this is purely angst and fluff
> 
> also I am noncombustibledaniel on tumblr if ur interested :)

_Well let's take this potted plant/ To the woods and set it free/ I'm gonna tell the owners/ Just how nice that was of me-_ The Devil's Workday, Modest Mouse

Dan woke in stages, first becoming aware that the blank slate of his mind, a peaceful, dreamless nothingness, was being infiltrated by a dull, metallic beep. Waking up felt a lot like swimming to the surface from the floor of a swimming pool, the light slowly becoming brighter the closer he was to the top and the less space it had to travel through to reach him. The soft light filtering through his blinds lay heavy and cool on his skin, like the damp air of a catacomb. The beeping of his alarm clock became harsher the more awake he became, rattling him like a sledgehammer coming down on the inside of his skull, threatening to crack the bone in half. Despite this, the mere thought of moving his arm to switch off the noise pained him. He somehow felt more tired now than he had when he had fallen asleep the night before. His entire body felt sore, his muscles tight as though he had been folded up into some strange human origami at some point during the night. He could feel a dull thud building up behind his left eye. It was like a hangover minus all the fun.

He groaned, the beeping continued, and he made no motion to stop it. He knew it had been going on for nearly three minutes now, he knew things would seem better once the noise stopped piercing through his brain, but he physically could not bring himself to move.

“Dan!” There was a banging at his bedroom wall. “Shut that fucking thing off would you?”

Dan hit the wall in response. “I’m working on it.”

“Well,” Chris yelled through the wall once more, “Work harder. Trying to sleep, for fuckssake.”

Dan flipped off the wall that he shared with Chris, then turned to blindly search for the switch on the alarm clock. The beeping ceased, leaving his ears feeling strangely empty.

He knew he could be a shit roommate sometimes, and that letting his alarm go off for a full five minutes at six in the morning wasn’t exactly considerate, but sometimes it took all the energy he had in his body to simply open his eyes. He didn’t know why he signed up for a class at seven in the morning on a Friday. Part of him thought that maybe if he started the day off early, he would be happier and more productive. He had been wrong, of course, it just lead to more hours of being awake and aware of his existence. It robbed him of the blissful hours of sleep he had cherished so, where, most of the time, he had not a care in the world. Because he was literally unconscious.

He knew he had to get out of bed. He couldn’t afford to miss this class. He had signed up for it as a GPA booster, assuming that it would be an easy A. He had been wrong. He should have asked around before signing up for Horticulture 1. He thought it would be just reading about plants, maybe the occasional walk through the university campus to identify local plants, but not much else than that. That, he thought, he could definitely handle. In reality, however, the class was very hand’s on. It took place in a fucking GREENHOUSE. He didn’t even know the campus had a greenhouse until the first day of class when he had walked up to the where the campus map said building 721 was and looked up to find a greenhouse. Not to mention it was a good ten minute walk from his dorm , which just made it less appealing.

He closed his eyes once more, clenching his fists at his sides. He was only three weeks into his first term of university. He couldn’t give up now.

“Ok, Dan” he said to himself, barely at a whisper. “You need to get up. You need to get up, then brush your teeth, then put on some clothes, at least drink some coffee, and get your ass to that stupid greenhouse. Understood?”

The word hung in the air unanswered. He understood, but he didn’t want to. University was so much easier to skip than school had been when he was younger. There was no one to call into, no one to write a note for, no parent’s dragging you to the car and kicking you out when you get to the school grounds. That was the issue. There was no one to stop him from not going.

“You have to go,” he whispered aloud once more, but the voice in the back of his head countered with You don’t really have to. That voice was a bit more persuasive. He had been listening to it more often as of late with his other classes, the ones where the work was easy to make up at home. There wasn’t really a way for him to pot a geranium in his room without making a mess and also having to go through a lot of hassle to get the supplies. But that voice was so tempting and every fibre of his being wanted to agree with it, give into it.

“No, you’re getting up, look at you go, you’re doing it,” Dan said, forcing his legs to swing out of the bed, bringing himself to a sitting position. That was as far as he got without pausing, letting his head fall into his hands. His head was throbbing, and it didn’t help that he had orthostatic hypertension, which made him all light headed when he got up too fast. He took a breather. He stood, more slowly this time, and walked over to his desk, rummaging through the drawers, searching for his ever-elusive but always needed bottle of ibuprofen. He hated swallowing tablets, but it had to be done, unless he wanted to stand in a sweaty greenhouse for an hour with a headache. He shook out two, then thought better of it, and shook out one more. He swallowed them one by one with the cup of water he kept on his bedside table, cringing as each pill forced its way past his tonsils.

He went about the motions of getting ready without really thinking about it. Sometimes, the more mundane aspects of his life felt more like he was following stage directions than like he was actually living, like someone had given him a list of actions he had to do before the scene could progress. He smirked at the thought. “Act I, Scene I,” he muttered under his breath. The script unfolded in his mind.

SETTING: A dingy shared bathroom in a dorm, home to the toiletries of two boys. The light is a depressing, dirty yellow, the plastic covering the light bulbs brittle and cracked. The room is incredibly small, and the taller boys find their knees brush against the shower door when they are sat on the toilet. The shower is a little more than a box, barely wide enough to turn around in. The walls are a dirty white, the paint peeling towards the top due to years of exposure to moisture. The counters are a beat up formica with a perpetual film of used toothpaste that seems to reappear within minutes of being cleaned. The floor is covered in a cracked linoleum.

AT RISE: DAN is stood at the bathroom sink, staring at his reflection. The boy looking back at him is in disarray, his hair sticking up in odd places, wavy from his shower the night before. There are circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, purple and hollow. He is wearing boxer briefs and nothing else. DAN reaches for his toothbrush, which rests in a purple cup on the counter. He brushes his teeth for three minutes counting each second in his head as he did so. DAN takes a brush from the counter and drags it through his hair, making it lie down flatter. His hand hovers hesitantly over a hair straightener, but he pulls it back, thinking better of it.

DAN:

(Under his breath)

No one here cares if you look like a hobbit anyway.

(DAN EXITS  the bathroom, switching off the lights as he does so. He walks back into the bedroom, where he picks out an outfit, a pair of black joggers and a white longsleeve shirt. The shirt reads SAD BOYS down the sleeve. He pulls on a pair of black and white Nikes that are too pristine to ever have been used for actual exercise. He EXITS the bedroom, and walks down the hall towards the kitchen.)

DAN:

(to himself)

You should probably eat something, mate.

(He opens a cabinet, stares into it blankly for a moment. He reaches in   and pulls out a silver pouch of poptarts.)

This will have to do.

(He pops the pastries into the toaster and moves through the motions of making coffee. He only brews enough for himself)

Let that fucker fend for himself.

 

(DAN jumps slightly when the pop tarts come up in the toaster. He waits for the coffee machine to beep and pours a cup, black, into his travel mug. He removes the pop tarts from the toaster and wraps them in a paper towel. He leaves them on the kitchen counter next to his coffee. He EXITS, walks back down the hall to his room, picks up his phone and his backpack, then EXITS once more to the kitchen. After retrieving his breakfast and making sure he had his keys, Dan turns to the front door. DAN EXITS).

END SCENE

Sometimes thinking about things like that, as though they are pre-planned for him, as if some playwright with a very underwhelming imagination was writing a very boring play about his life made him feel a little better. It made him feel as though there was some direction in his life, that his actions maybe weren’t so aimless. It helped him forget that feeling for a while.

Dan was undeclared in his major, and so being lost was something that he felt quite often. His two most common emotions at university, he had discovered, were that of being lost and that of being lonely. Both of these combined made him feel very small in a very big world, especially in a place where everyone seemed to have everything figured out. Everyone had a plan, a place they saw themselves at the end of their four year stay here. Dan, however, did not. He had nothing. He had two things he liked, acting and writing plays, but those weren’t options in the real world. Majors like that only lead to a fruitful life if you were a lead in a romcom movie, not a real human in the real world. And he preferred not to think about it or talk about his lack of realisitic plan, which lead to him isolating himself. All anyone ever wanted to talk about at Uni was their major, their plan, what they wanted to do when they got out. And he didn’t have anything to contribute to that conversation so he didn’t.

He locked the door behind him and began his walk to his class. He was supposed to have this figured out, he thought. He was nineteen, he had taken a gap year, he had plenty of time to think about what he wanted, but he hadn’t. Instead he had spiralled into something he refused to call a depression, but what would probably be diagnosed as one. If he ever told anyone. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to talk about it. He supposed that was another reason he had isolated himself so far at his stay at university. He didn’t want anyone to ask if he was ok. He didn’t want to have have to explain that he wasn’t. But he was okay with not being okay. Just living with it was easier than trying to fix it, he had decided.

He unwrapped his poptart from the paper towel and began to eat. It was cinnamon, which was not his favorite flavor, but would have to do. He tried to switch the other poptart, still wrapped in the paper towel, with his coffee cup that he was carrying pressed between the crook of his arm and his chest so that he could take a drink. However, instead of safely transferring it to his hand, Dan ended up dumped the entire contents of the cup on the pavement in front of him. The cup clattered to the ground.

“Shit.” Dan sighed. “I guess that might as well happen.”

So today was turning out…. not great. That was to be expected. He looked around to see if anyone had seen him. The campus was relatively empty this time of day, most people still sleeping off whatever they had done the night before, whether it had been work or something less soul numbing. He appeared to be safe, the closest person was about 500 yards away and didn’t appear to be looking his way. In fact, the guy seemed to be focusing on something that was on the ground. Dan bent down to pick up his cup, not taking his eyes off the other man who was just down the walkway, from the way he had just come. The man bent down and held out his hand, then jumped up and nearly fell on his bum.

“What the fuck?” Dan whispered to himself, squinting to try and see what the man was looking at on the ground. It appeared that there was a squirrel crossing the path that had jumped up at him while he was bent down talking to it, and presumably trying to get it to take something from his hand, like a weird version of Snow White. Come to think of it, from what Dan could see at this distance, the man was pale, had black hair, and was wearing a red shirt, so he very well could be the modern male Snow White. As Dan was watching this bizarre interaction, he noticed the man had spotted him watching him and had raised a hand in greeting. Dan quickly waved back and turned about face, walking away from the puddle of coffee he had spilt at mach speed. He wasn’t in the mood to talk or make a new friend at the moment. Actually, he never was.

Shortly thereafter, he arrived at the greenhouse. He walked through rows of wooden work benches and made his way to the one in the front of the right side of the room, where he had worked since the beginning of term. He sat in the front because that made sure he only had to interact with the instructor, because no one was in front of him and could just turn around and chat, and anyone behind him would have to get up and walk around their work surface to even get close enough to get his attention. It was his way of making sure he could just get in to the class and get out, no hanging about, no painful small talk. Just working with the plants and leaving, that was all he wanted. Even when the professor had said they could work in pairs, he hadn’t even lifted his head to look around the room for someone to be his potential partner. He just plodded right along with his work. If he actually thought about it, he realized that out of the near thirty people in his class, he could probably only recognize two, the girl who sat next to him and the other girl who sat across the aisle. Not that he minded, he had just never realized how well he had blocked everything out. He finished the remainder of his last pop tart as he waited for the professor to start class.

“Today,” he heard Professor Jamieson’s booming voice from somewhere off to the left, in a large conglomeration of taller plants, “we are going to be learning about tubers.” He emerged from the plants holding a large bulb in gloved hands. He went on to explain the many intricacies of tubers and how they differed from other plants, and Dan really tried to listen, but he was crashing fast without his caffeine fix for the morning. He rest his cheek in his palm and closed his eyes, just so they could rest and convinced himself he could listen at the same time. The next thing he knew he heard, “Howell!”

He sat up straight. “Yes, sir!”

“Come get your damn tuber and a pot, son. Hope you caught the instructions on how to plant it,” the professor added, raising his eyebrows knowingly.

Dan took the tuber from his hand and walked over to the pot shelves to pick up a pot. He filled it with soil then returned to his seat. Then he stared. He stared at this weird alien plant and tried to think of any knowledge he may have gathered just throughout life on how to plant a tuber and he couldn’t think of a single damn thing. All he knew was that a tulip was a tuber. And he didn’t even know if this… tube? What was the singular of tuber? Was it just tuber? Tube? God, he didn’t even know what to call the damn thing. He sighed, defeated.

“Cool,” he said under his breath, internally kicking himself for letting himself fall asleep.

He heard someone clear their throat behind him, just to his left, but he was sure it wasn’t a noise meant for him to respond to. A couple moments later, he felt a tap at his shoulder.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice asked.

Dan rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. He turned to face whoever was behind him.

“Yes?” he said, looking at the culprit.

Of course. Of course it was him. Black hair. Red checked button up short sleeve shirt. Squirrel boy, in the flesh, up close and personal.

“I could help you,” he said, motioning towards Dan’s work table where his tuber sat without a home.

The man, who he supposed was not really much older than him, was holding his own plant, already potted. Dan didn’t answer at first. He wanted a good grade of course, but the idea of having to talk to someone, especially Squirrel Boy, made him sweat.That might have just been that he was wearing long sleeves in a greenhouse, and really everyone was a little bit sweaty. He looked back to Squirrel Boy, whose face also was covered in a light sheen of moisture, evident even more so because his glasses were beginning to fog up on the edges just near his nose. Dan decided the grade was more important than the pain talking to someone he saw talking to a squirrel would cause him.

“Yeah, sure, thanks,” he said, nodding and turning back to his plant.

“Phil, by the way,” Squirrel Boy said, moving in next to Dan, their arms brushing up against each other. Apparently, Phil did not have a good concept of personal space.

“I’m Dan,” he returned, not making eye contact, picking up the tuber and rolling it in his hands.

“That’s a nice name. Better than Sleepy Kid in the Front Row, which is what I was calling you in my head.”

“Yeah, well Phil is better than Squirrel Boy,” Dan said, rather unpleasantly, before he could stop himself.

“Oi! That’s not nice,” Phil said. Dan looked up at the other man to gauge the expression on his face, nervous he had actually offended Phil. Phil’s mouth was pouting, but Dan could see a sparkle in his eyes that said he didn’t mean it.

“Sorry.”

“I thought that was you when I saw you, that’s why I waved,” Phil continued, fidgeting slightly with his pot of soil.

“What do you mean?” Dan asked, squinting at Phil’s face. Had they met before? Oh, no, they had probably met before and he didn’t remember it. “Do we know each other?”

“No, no, no,” Phil answered quickly shaking his head. “I’ve just noticed you in class before.”

Dan furrowed his brow… He wasn’t sure what Phil meant by noticed him. His palms suddenly felt sweaty. What he he done in order to draw so much attention to himself that Phil recognized him this morning when he was fairly certain he had never laid eyes on the man until this morning? “What about me?” he asked, tentatively.

Phil paused for a moment, seemingly searching for words. “You’re very focused,” he finally decided upon.

“Yeah, I guess,” Dan agreed. If Phil wanted to call being very determined to look unapproachable looking “focused,” then Dan wouldn’t correct him. Anyway, apparently the unapproachable bit hadn’t worked out, because here Phil was, approaching him.

“I’ve never seen anyone like you before,” Phil said, his eyes quickly grazing over Dan’s face, resting on his eyes before he looked away quickly, his cheeks coloring slightly. “Your ability to focus, I mean. You seem like you’re away in your own little world.”

Trapped, more like it, Dan thought. Phil meant well, he decided, but he sure did talk a lot. Dan worried he would be hard to shake after class. Unsure of what to say next, he forced a smile. “So..”

“Tubers, right. So you need to make sure it’s covered by about six inches of soil,” Phil began to explain. He had begun making a space in the soil in Dan’s pot to put the tuber.

“Um.. what exactly is it, by the way? The flower?” Dan asked, somewhat embarrassed by his lack of knowledge.

“Oh,” Phil said, pausing what he was doing. “You really were knocked out, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dan answered, guiltily.

“It’s a dahlia,” Phil stated before resuming his planting.

“Oh. I never knew that was a real flower. I mean, I knew about the Black Dahlia, like the murder… I just didn’t know it was a flower.” Dan rambled, watching Phil work away at his own plant.

Apparently, by “help” Dan, Phil had meant “I will do it for you.” But Dan wasn’t complaining. He watched as Phil placed the tuber in the dirt, his hands dwarfing it. He had dirt under his nails, and Dan could see the soil embedded in the ridges of his finger tips. Under normal circumstances, Dan would have found that gross, but in this setting, it seemed strangely fascinating, like Phil’s hands were useful, like they had a job and they knew what that was and they did it. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Phil’s hands, and how they looked so traditionally manly in the job they were doing, but they were attached to someone who seemed so, for lack of a better word, pretty. Skinny jeans, tight button up shirt, hair so black it couldn’t be natural with a fringe, and his eyes behind his glasses were so blue, Dan thought for a moment they might be fake as well, but upon further inspection, decided they were his actual eye color. He was so lost in thought when Phil responded to him, he almost missed it.

“Well, if this flower ends up being black, I would say you did something wrong,” Phil said, smiling brightly at Dan. “Here,” he said, passing the pot to Dan. “All done.”

“Thanks,” Dan said, taking it from him.

“Alright, class is over, put your plants on the shelving unit on the front wall before you leave. Make sure your name is on it,” Professor Jamieson called from his workbench at the front of the room.

Dan gathered his belongings, put the pot in the shelving unit, and slung his backpack over his shoulder. Phil had walked up to the shelving unit before Dan had, and was now making his way back to the back of the room where he sat before he came to join Dan. Dan smiled at him as he went to pass him and go back to his dorm.

“Uh, Dan?” Phil said, stepping into Dan’s path. Dan’s throat tightened in annoyance.

“Yeah?”

“You’re still holding your plant.”

Dan looked down at his hands and that what he thought was his coffee cup was his plant, and upon turning to check the shelves, saw his coffee mug where the plant should be.

“Oh. I guess I was trying to release my plant into the wild,” he said, smirking. “Sorry, I’m really tired.”

Phil smiled at him. “You’re funny. I like you. You’re a plant’s rights activist. The Plant Liberator.”

And like that, Dan had a friend. He wasn’t sure he wanted a friend, but he had one. Squirrel Boy and the Plant Liberator. Dan turned and walked back to the shelving unit and switched out his plant for his cup. He turned to find Phil still there, waiting for him.

“Walk with me?” Phil asked when Dan was closer to him again.

They had come from the same way, and would presumably be walking back the same way. It was easier to say yes than say no.

“Yeah, alright.”

“I promise I won’t try to talk to any squirrels,” Phil added, holding the door for Dan.

“Honestly, if you do, I am pretending I don’t know you,” Dan said, rolling his eyes.

“Well, you don’t,” Phil reminded him.

“All the better, then,” Dan added, only half joking. The idea of knowing someone here made him nervous. That meant he would have someone to answer to, someone who worried about him, someone who saw how he behaved and would try to help him be better. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but the idea of someone getting to really know him made him want to throw up. And this guy seemed to want to get to know him.

“Oh, you wound me,” Phil answered, playfully nudging Dan with his shoulder.

Dan didn’t know what to say next. He had never really engaged in a banter that had lasted this long without someone actually making the other person feel bad. They were quiet for most of the walk, but not in an uncomfortable way. Phil seemed to be able to read Dan well, and seemed ok with the fact that he was in a quiet mood. As they got closer to Dan’s place, Phil spoke once more.

“So, you live nearby?”

“Yeah,” Dan answered, “Just three more buildings down this way.”

Phil’s gaze went down the row of buildings until his eyes rested on the one Dan had signified as his own. He nodded.

“Well, I’m right here,” he said, motioning to the door they were just about to pass. “So, see you around, neighbor.” He walked backwards towards his door, winking, before turning around and unlocking the door. Dan paused to note the building number just as Phil closed the door behind him.

This guy seemed too close for comfort, in more ways than one.


	2. Chapter 2

_Well that is that and this is this./ You tell me what you want and I'll tell you what you get./ You get away from me._ -The Ocean Breathes Salty, Modest Mouse

Dan kept running into Phil over the next couple of days. It seemed everywhere he went, Phil would appear. At first he thought it may have been on purpose, that Phil had been making sure they would be in the same place at the same time, but a few times, Phil had been in a room before Dan had even walked in, so Dan nixed that idea. Dan wasn’t a big believer in the universe trying to tell him things throughout his life, but if he was, he would have probably thought the universe was telling him to let Phil into his life, to let himself have a friend. But he didn’t believe in that. He had maybe had a fleeting thought about it, but of course, that wasn’t true.

The one thing that continued to feel suspicious to him, and that was that Phil always seemed to be behind him in line at the Starbucks when he showed up there around four in the afternoon on most days. He allowed himself to splurge on something he enjoyed after he was done with classes, as a reward for not cocooning himself in his blankets and pretending he had no responsibilities, which is what every cell in his body wanted him to do. The coffee almost made the day worth it. Almost.

He had walked into the Starbucks nearest to campus one afternoon and stood in the always-too-long line, eyeing the door for that familiar face to walk in minutes after he did, as he always did, like clockwork. Except in his focus on the door, he did not notice a person approaching him from behind until their voice was in his ear.

“Hey, Dan,” came Phil’s voice, oddly quiet but still noticeable amongst the bustle of the coffee shop.

Dan jumped and spun to see the man stood behind him holding two drinks, which was not the norm. This was not part of the schedule he had settled into over the past few weeks. Normally, he was in front of Phil in line, and only spoke to him for as long as it took to be his turn to order, where they then parted ways as Dan would find a table and look as busy as possible with whatever work he had brought to do that day, in hopes of keeping conversationalists at bay. That plan normally worked. This, however, threw a wrench in his plans.

“I, ugh, bought you a drink. Happy Wednesday, the week’s almost over,” Phil said, holding one of the cups in his hand out to Dan. He looked more nervous than normal, as though he was unsure that Dan would willingly accept his gift.

“Oh. Wow. Thanks.” Dan stuttered, a bit taken aback. “How did you know what I get?” Dan said, reading the markings on the side of the cup to see that they did read for the correct order: a grande caramel macchiato, extra whip.

“Well, I’ve only heard you order the same thing every day for two weeks to start,” Phil reminded him. “You wanna get out of line and come sit with me then? You don’t have to if you don’t want, but I would really like you to.”

And there was the issue. Dan had accepted the coffee gift, and the least he could do was go and sit with Phil for the time being. Maybe Phil would let him do his normal thing where he just kind of became dead to the world by diving into his work, but Dan doubted it. Phil was a talker. It was too bad, too, because Dan found he always got more work done here than he did at home, which he figured was due to the fact that more people here were watching what he was doing, and in a way that held him accountable, and he was sure he was about to lose that valuable period of productivity. He also had an idea for a play that he wanted to try and outline while he was here, but he couldn’t do that with Phil talking his ear off. All the same, he nodded affirmative at Phil’s request and followed him to the table where Phil had already set up camp for the afternoon.

“So,” Phil began after they had both sat down. “How’s your plant doing?”

“To be completely honest with you, I have no idea. It could probably be better,” Dan answered, shrugging in a “what-can-you-do” manner.

“I could help you, you know,” Phil offered.

“Yeah? I wouldn’t want to burden you with the life of my plant baby as well as yours though,” Dan answered, feeling bad that he was even considering taking Phil’s help, partly because that would be extra work for Phil, and partly because it would make him feel indebted to Phil, like he had to at least give him a little bit more of a pleasant interaction than the short and very shallow conversations they normally had when they met in passing.

“I would be honored to be your plant baby daddy,” Phil said, holding his hand to his chest, his face twisted with feigned emotion as though Dan had just asked him to be his best man.

“Ok, you can be, as long as you never say that phrase again,” Dan said, smiling in spite of himself.

“Which phrase?” Phil asked, knowingly. “I’d be honored?”

“You know it wasn’t that one!” Dan huffed.

“Plant baby daddy? What would you prefer? What if I removed the baby? Would that make it better? What if I was just it’s plant daddy?” Phil rambled.

“Actually shut up!” Dan wheezed, absolutely busting up with laughter. He nearly shot coffee out of his nose, he was laughing so hard. “Do not use the words plant and daddy in the same sentence, for the love of Christ.”

Phil just sat there looking oddly proud of himself.

“What?” Dan asked, his giggles slowly subsiding. He felt oddly light, and for a moment, he had forgotten all the things he wasn’t getting done by sacrificing his time to talk to Phil. He felt comfortable, like he was right where he should have been.

“It’s just that I have had, I don’t know, fifteen conversations with you now, and I’ve never heard you properly laugh. Or even smile that big. I just…” Phil trailed off.

“I’m not really a laugher,” Dan agreed, returning now to his somber self. “Or a smiler. Or a talker really.”

“Yet here I am, making you laugh, smile and talk,” Phil pointed out, his grin widening.

“Hey now, don’t get too cocky,” Dan answered. “I have homework and I am not afraid to use it to ignore you.”

“Please don’t,” Phil pouted, pleadingly.

Dan smiled at him again, in the same wide goofy smile he had found on his face after the plant daddy remark. It felt strange. He supposed Phil had the right to feel proud, since even he was surprised at himself with how much he was smiling.

“So, why’d you buy me coffee then, what’s the catch?” Dan asked, changing the subject. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but it’s not often that I strange men buy me coffe.”

“I’m not a strange man! You know me!” Phil protested.

“I don’t mean a stranger, I mean strange. Need I remind you of the squirrel incident of 2k15?” Dan threatened jokingly.

“No!”

“So, why have you, a strange man, purchased me a hot drink today?”

“Because,” Phil said, pausing to take a drink from his own cup and taking what felt like much too long to swallow the sip. “I don’t know, I feel like I see you everywhere and barely know you. And I wanted that to change, I guess.”

Dan felt a knot tighten in the pit of his stomach. Why the hell would someone want to get to know him?

“Well, what do you want to know?” he asked, trying to act unphased.

“Hmm… Well first off, how old are you?” Phil said after a few moment’s thought.

“I’m a first year, but I’m nineteen,” Dan answered.

“No way, I thought you were like 20 or 21,” Phil said eyes wide with shock. “You’re still a little baby human.”

“Rude,” Dan scowled with mock anger. “What about you, how old are you?”

“I’m in my last year here. I”m 23,” Phil said, a bit sheepishly.

“Wow, grandpa.”

“I thought we were against referring to me as paternal figures,” Phil reminded Dan.

“Oh, thank you for reminding me. Let’s go with old man, then, shall we?” Dan laughed again.

The proud smile returned to Phil’s face.

“I am going to make you laugh more often, Dan,” Phil said quietly, with an odd sense of finality for such an unimportant statement.

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, I will. Next question: Can I have your phone number?” Phil said, not making eye contact with Dan as he spoke.

The words left Dan’s mouth sooner than he could think about it. “Yeah, sure, let me put it in your phone.”

The next thing he knew, he was typing his name and number into Phil’s phone.

“Ok, Dan Howell,” Phil said, taking his phone back and checking out the contact. “I’m adding a plant emoji to your name.”  
“To remind yourself that I am in your horticulture class?” Dan asked, confused.

“No, to remind me that I am your plant daddy.”

“That phrase is on the blacklist of our lives, Phil,” Dan said, stifling his laughter behind his hand.

“Noted. Plant daddy has been blacklisted. Ok one last question: Do you want to come over to mine Friday night and play video games or watch a movie or something?” Phil asked, the words cascading from his mouth so quickly that they were nearly unintelligible.

The idea of having a commitment outside of school seemed too much for Dan to ask of himself. He barely made it out of his room to go to class, and that was only because it affected his grades, which also affected his home life and his future. He couldn’t see himself actually turning up to plans that had to long term consequence, plans that would be so easy to cancel. Yet he felt himself nodding and heard the words, “That would be great, what time?” slipping from his lips.

“Is seven alright?” Phil asked, a smile breaking across his face.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Dan agreed. “What are you so happy about then?”

“I really didn’t think you’d say yes, to be completely honest,” Phil shrugged. “Not to be rude, you just seem so committed to your school work, it almost seems like sometimes you’re determined not to interact with anyone. Or have fun.” He smiled sheepishly.

So Phil had picked up on that, had he? Dan hated him in that moment for being exactly spot on. It made him worry that Phil had picked up on other things about him, like how he hated going to class or even leaving his apartment or really doing anything because he was starting to lose sight of the point. And in that sense, Phil really scared him. He seemed to know Dan so well without really knowing him, to understand his motives without having to have them explained, to care about him even though he barely knew Dan.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I can only handle so much at once, you know,” he tried to sound casual as he divulged his limitations for the first time outloud. “I figure I’ll take things one step at a time. Sometimes I can do school and fun, but this is all so new and I don’t really know anyone except my flatmate. And, well, you,” he finished. He took a long swig of his drink. Phil nodded, but seemed hesitant to say anything. Dan’s stomach dropped. He had overshared. He shad said too much. He had completely forgotten what is appropriate to say to a stranger and what wasn’t and now Phil was completely weirded out. He was about to apologize when Phil opened his mouth to speak.

“I can’t say that happens to me, but I supposed I understand it. A new place can be overwhelming, especially when you don’t know anyone. Do you get along with your roommate?” Phil asked, a slight look of concern washing over his face.

“Well enough to survive. We aren’t really friends. We don’t hang out and we argue over who has to clean the bathroom. And sometimes I let my alarm go off for too long in the mornings,” Dan admitted, guiltily.

“Not a natural early riser, are you?” Phil asked, chuckling. Dan nodded in agreement. “I didn’t take you for one.”

Phil picked up his phone and checked the time. “Oh, shoot. Listen, as much as I would like to stay here and talk to you, I do have a lab tonight in like 15 minutes, so I have to run,” he said, apologetically.

“No, no, that’s fine,” Dan answered, trying to ignore the disappointment welling up in his chest. “I have writing to do anyway.”

“Oh sorry, was I keeping you?” Phil asked, packing his things into a galaxy patterned backpack.

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. I am glad that you were here.”

“I’m glad I was, too.” He stood up, preparing to walk away, but before he did, he asked, “Do you want to know a secret?”

“Sure?” Dan answered, confused.

“I normally don’t come here everyday. I only started when I ran into you the first day I saw you here and you said that you came everyday. So I could you know, talk to you.” Phil said, toeing the ground as he looked at his shoes nervously.

“So you’re lowkey stalking me?” Dan said, only half creeped out.

“I prefer the phrase “premeditated accidental meeting orchestrator”, but to each his own,” Phil answered laughing. “Please don’t think I’m creepy. See you in class Friday. Oh, and also on Friday night, huh? Anyway, see you soon.”  He waved as he made his way towards the door and then walked out.

 

Dan waved back, then settled back into his seat. What had he just gotten himself into? This guy had seemingly changed his schedule just for the chance to talk to him for a few minutes everyday. Not that that creeped Dan out, he had done similar things back in high school so he could run into people he had wanted to be friends with. That was before everything had gotten so hard, or maybe that had been the beginning. That was around when he first starting realizing that what he did didn’t really matter in the big picture of things, and that had been when he had started losing friends because his sense of humor had gotten too dark or being around him was “depressing.” But he had just agreed to hang out with Phil at night on a Friday, the night that has perhaps the most social value out of every day in the calendar. People didn’t just give up their time to anyone on a Friday night. The person had to be worth it. And apparently, Phil thought Dan was interesting enough to sacrifice that precious time for him. Why, he had no idea, but he seemed to. The idea of having to get back out after going to class all day on Friday sounded hellish, but he had to do it now. He had promised Phil, and Phil had been nothing but kind to him. Helped him with his school work, bought him coffee, and even listened intently when Dan overshared. And maybe Phil wasn’t so bad. He was tolerable enough.

So Dan decided he would really, really try to get there on Friday. He really would.


	3. Chapter 3

_You were laying on the carpet/ like you're satin in a coffin./You said, "Do you believe what you're sayin'?"/Yeah right now, but not that often_ \- Satin in a Coffin, Modest Mouse

.

Friday morning rolled round. Dan had woken before his alarm had went off. In all honestly, he wasn’t really sure he had ever gone to sleep. He lay in bed, waiting for the alarm to sound and thinking. He had done a lot of that that night. He hated himself for over analyzing everything about the situation, but he couldn’t help himself. He was so nervous about going to Phil’s. About what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe he was nervous that Phil would ask him questions about his plans for the future, where he wanted to go with his life, with his education. He was nervous he wouldn’t live up to Phil’s expectations, that he wouldn’t be as interesting as Phil seemed to think he was. He worried that he cared too much about what Phil thought even though it shouldn’t matter to him. He worried about why it did.

He was tired from thinking, felt as though his brain had never shut off, and by the time his alarm rang, he felt as though he had to do the unthinkable: miss a day of Horticulture 1. He couldn’t do it. He had to take a mental health day. He picked up his phone and checked for any missed texts or calls. As he suspected, he had none. He got up and made his way to the bathroom, deciding to take a long shower while Chris was asleep. He knew he wouldn’t fall back asleep anyway. He turned on the water, turning the knobs to where the water was almost at it’s hottest, which wasn’t saying much with this building’s sad excuse for a water heater. The water was still hot enough to produce steam though, and that was good enough for Dan. He stripped as he waited for the shower to warm. He stepped in, relishing the feeling of hot water against his skin. It was nearly scalding, but not quite there. Part of him wished it was. He pushed his hair back from his forehead, dreading having to straighten it again not that it had gotten wet and would revert back to its natural hobbit-y self. He finished his shower and he went back to his room, crawling into bed without bothering to dry off or get dressed.

The sheets clung to his wet body and his hair would be a mess if he slept on it wet, but he didn’t care. His mind has slowed while he was in the shower and he finally felt as though he could fall asleep. He picked up his phone to check the time. He had a text from an unknown number.

Message: Hey Dan, it’s Phil Lester from Horticulture. And Starbucks. Just realized you don’t know my last name, so that wasn’t a good identifier. Anyway, I just wanted to check in on you and make sure you’re ok since you aren’t in class. Took care of your plant for you :)

Dan saved the number, thinking of how to respond. He forgot anyone would notice he was gone. In all his worry about tonight, he had forgotten he would have seen Phil this morning if he had gone to class. He couldn’t have tell the truth and tell Phil he was so worried about seeing him tonight he had stayed up all night thinking about it. He hatched up a little white lie to get him off the hook.

**From Dan: Hey, sorry about that. Thank you for taking care of my plant-baby :) I overslept. I”m fine, just tired!**

**To Dan: It’s fine :) No problem at all. I’m glad you’re ok. I was worried I wouldn’t see you tonight.**

**Dan paused. His fingers hovered over the screen momentarily before typing.**

**From Dan: Wouldn’t miss if for the world.**

**To Dan: Good. Can’t wait. :)**

Dan locked his phone. A pit settled into his stomach, but he ignored it. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Eventually, he did, deeply and undisturbed.

***

He woke from his sleep to a pounding on his door. His room was dark. He looked up at the window to see the sky had gone dark long ago, judging from the deepness of the blue.

“Dan! Dan wake up!” Chris continued to pound on the door.

“For fuckssake, what?” Dan yelled back. He picked up his phone to look at the time again. It was eight at night. He had 3 missed calls from Phil and 5 texts. Fuck. He had overslept.

“Some guy at the door for you,” Chris said.

“Who?”

“I don’t know, tall, nerdy looking guy. I’ll go get him,” Chris answered, his footsteps receding back towards the front door.

“Wait! Wait!” he called, but Chris was already too far away to hear. “I need to get dressed,” he said, half to the Chris that was no longer at the door and half to himself. He hopped up out of bed and pulled on the first pair of underwear he could find. He heard Chris approaching now with a second set of footsteps accompanying him.

“He’s probably lying on the carpet, face down crying or something. He does that a lot. I don’t know why you hang out with him, but that’s your choice,” he heard Chris saying in the hallway. Dan switched on the light and frantically looked for a pair of pants. Chris knocked twice more.

“Don’t come in yet, one second,” Dan called, triumphantly holding up a pair of clean black skinny jeans. He was just beginning the struggle of getting them on when he heard the doorknob jiggle. Chris opened the door, a smirk on his face. Behind him stood Phil, who looked worried at first, then seeing the state that Dan was in, blushed and turned away.

“Chris. I said DON’T come in,” Dan spat, stood in the middle of his room with his skinny jeans around his ankles. He bent down and jumped a few times while pulling them up, then buttoned them. “Obviously, I had a good reason.”

“Sorry, mate,” Chris replied, though the smile on his face said otherwise. “Must have misheard you. Didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your… Friend.”

Dan rolled his eyes at Chris, knowing that’s exactly what he had meant to do. Phil stood awkwardly behind Chris, not saying anything.

“Come in, Phil. GOODBYE, Chris,” Dan said, walking over to hold the door for Phil, then promptly shutting it in Chris’s face. “Phil, I am so sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night and I guess I fell asleep and didn’t set an alarm, I didn’t mean to blow you off.”

“It’s fine,” Phil said, sitting down on the foot of Dan’s bed, watching Dan walk frantically around the room looking for an unwrinkled shirt. “Well, it’s not fine. I was worried about you. And Chris didn’t make me feel any better about that.”

“Chris is an asshole.”

“He said something about you lying face first on the carpet all day, sometimes,” Phil said, shrugging.

Dan picked up a white button-down that was covered in tiny pictures of moths and put it on. He focused on buttoning his shirt while he answered, “Yeah, well, he’s not wrong, he just doesn’t get why.”

“Oh. Ok.” Phil said. Dan could feel Phil watching him intently. “Dan. If you overslept for class today, how come you slept all day after that?”

“Oh,” was all Dan could manage. He hadn’t thought about that.

“I know I probably don’t have the right to be, seeing as you know, I’m mostly a stranger, but I’m worried about you,” Phil continued.

This is exactly what Dan did not want. He did not want someone to worry about him. He figured the best way to get out of it was to lie, to say he fell asleep just a few hours before he had to wake up that morning, because he was up late doing homework or something, which in turn made him too tired to get through the day, something like that. But when he looked up at Phil’s face, he knew he couldn’t.

“I, uh… I didn’t sleep at all last night if you want to know the truth. I didn’t oversleep. I never went to bed,” Dan confessed, turning to look in the full length mirror behind him, tugging at his hair as though he could make it straight with just his hands.

“Does that happen a lot?” Phil asked. Dan could see him sitting on the bed behind him in the mirror. His face looked so genuinely concerned that even though Dan desperately wanted to lie again, he couldn’t.

“Yes.”

“Do you know why? Like is it something specific?”

“Is everything in my life specific enough?” Dan asked with a weak laugh.

“No.”

“It’s just… It’s just a lot, ok?” Dan confessed. He turned to face Phil, then sunk to a sitting position on the floor. “Everything is too much, sometimes. Like I said before. Sometimes it’s too much.”

Phil nodded. “I can listen. If you want me to,” he said quietly. He slipped down off the bed to sit cross legged on the floor across from Dan.

“You don’t even know me, Phil.”

“Yeah, and I never will if you keep using that as an excuse not to talk to me,” Phil pointed out.

“You really want to know? I mean you have kind of hit the nail on the head before, Phil. I’m not a happy person. I’m not a laugher. Or a smiler. Or a talker,” Dan repeated what he had said earlier that week at the coffee shop. He didn’t know how to explain it better.

“See, but that’s not true, I’ve seen you laugh and smile. At the same time, no less,” Phil said, punching Dan lightly on the knee for emphasis. He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Dan felt the pit return to his stomach. Why did this kid have to care?

“Ugh, you’re just going to sit here making puppy eyes at me until I talk, aren’t you?”

Phil nodded, his smile widening.

“Ok, whatever. Truth is…. I hate it here. But I hate it everywhere. I guess that means the place isn’t the problem, I am. But everyone here knows exactly what they’re doing when they’re getting out and I’m still undeclared and I’m lost. And I’m lonely. And what’s the point in even trying to make friends? All my friends back home seemed to forget about me once I moved away to school, so what happens after I leave here? What’s the point of making new friends if I just have to make a new set in another four years? Everything on this planet is temporary.” He paused and thought a moment, reformulating his words. “And maybe… maybe that’s just an excuse. I have been alone the whole time I’ve been here and it’s my own damn fault because I don’t want to be a burden on other people. I don’t want other people to worry about me, or ask me if I am ok, because I’m not and I don’t think that I can change it,” Dan finished, kicking himself for saying anything at all. He shouldn’t have said it, but there was something about Phil. That felt cliche to say, but there was something about Phil that made him want to tell him things he wouldn’t tell anyone else. He couldn’t stop the words once they had started, and now it was out in the open. “I don’t want someone as nice as you to be stuck with someone as….” He paused. He was going to say fucked up but that sounded too self deprecating, but also too much like some emo kid on tumblr with a blog entitled welcome to my twisted mind, and he didn’t want to be that kid. “Someone as…. as lame as me. I’m not worth that,” he stuttered to a finish.

“Do really believe that about yourself?” Phil asked. “Like in your heart of hearts, you don’t think you’re worth having someone care about you?”

Dan nodded.

Phil shook his head. “Well, it’s  little late for you to be telling me, isn’t it?” he asked.

“For what?” Dan replied, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“You can’t tell me that you don’t want anyone to worry about you when I already am. You missed the no-friends boat.  Not like I can switch it off, mate,” Phil continued. “Because I think you’re worth that. I think you’re really great. Even if you do kinda try to avoid talking to me at the coffee shop.” Phil smiled a little while he said the last part.

“I don’t!” Dan lied.

“You definitely do. No one has ever gotten their drink and unpacked their shit faster than you do when you sit down. Don’t think I’m not wise to your tricks. I am. Don’t think I also don’t know that you nearly pooed  your pants the other day when I bought you a coffee. But I’m glad you told me because I was afraid you just didn’t like me.” Phil finished.

“Did not nearly shit myself,” Dan said, pouting. He was really amazed by this guy sitting across from him on the bedroom floor. He wasn’t sure how Phil got him to pour his heart out in the first place, and was even more confused by how he dragging him into a jokey mood just moments after. Dan was never, ever in a jokey mood.

“Did, too,” Phil said, smiling mischievously. “You still want to come over to mine then?”

“Well I have to straighten my hair really quick,” Dan said, bringing his hands up to his head, remembering how atrocious he must look.

“Don’t,” Phil said, giving Dan a once over. “I was just thinking when I saw you at the coffee shop the other day when it was straight that I like it better this way.”

“You’re crazy,” Dan said, but he knew by the sudden appearance of butterflies in his stomach that he would not be straightening it. “It looks gross,” he heard himself say, as though he was fishing for Phil to say more nice things.

“I think it looks great,” Phil said, standing up and holding his hand out to Dan to help him. “Find some shoes so we can go. I want to get home before my flatmates do and claim the downstairs TV.”

Dan sped over to his wardrobe and pulled on some socks and shoes before saying “Alright ready.”

He grabbed his black coat, and after shoving his keys and his phone charger in the pocket, he picked up his phone and lead Phil out of the apartment.

Just as he was closing the door, he heard Chris shout, “Have fun at your boyfriend’s!” He chose to ignore it, and so did Phil. Phil had to have heard him, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Alright then, let’s go,” Dan said, motioning for Phil to lead the way. As the walked side by side, Dan swore it was his imagination, but he felt like Phil’s hand brushed up against his own too many times for it to be an accident.

And he hated himself for noticing that.


	4. Chapter 4

_Jaws clenched tight we talked all night/ oh, but what the hell did we say?_ \- The Good Times Are Killing Me, Modest Mouse

 ****  


Phil’s place was nice. He apparently shared the place with two other people, PJ and Louise . It was much nicer than Dan’s apartment, cleaner and more organized. Not to mention there were about a thousand houseplants and scented candles, making it feel very well looked after. Phil lead Dan into the living room and opened up the cabinet under the TV to reveal pretty much every useful gaming system under the sun.

“Wow,” Dan said, raising his eyebrows.

“PJ and I are very dedicated to our gaming. Louise doesn’t seem to mind it as long as she can have the TV on Wednesdays for American Horror Story, which we don’t mind because we watch the show, too,” Phil explained. “We pretend we mind, so Lou still thinks we’re having to compromise.”

“You sneaky shits,” Dan chastised teasingly. He sat down on the couch and waited for direction from Phil.

“What do you want to play? We can order a pizza if you want, too,” Phil added, suddenly seeming very excited. “Here look at these, I’ll find a number for a pizza place and we can call after you choose,” he continued, shoving a huge pile of game boxes into Dan’s lap.

“Down boy, you’re acting like you haven’t had someone over to play video games in literally years,” Dan said, sorting through the overwhelmingly large pile.

“No one nearly as cool as you,” Phil called over his shoulder as he walked towards the kitchen. He disappears into the other room, and Dan can hear him pull open a drawer and rustle through what sounds like a lot of paper, probably the drawer where they kept the take out menus.

“I’m not cool,” Dan called back, selecting Mario Kart 8 from the pile. Phil was about to get annihilated and he didn’t even know it.

“Are, too” Phil answered, walking up behind where Dan sat on the sofa and ruffling his hair. Dan swatted Phil’s hand away and turned to point at him accusingly, as if to say you stop that.

“What kind of pizza, then?” Phil asked, leafing through the menu and taking a seat next to Dan.

“I dunno. You choose,” Dan said, taking the games from his lap and stacking them neatly on the coffee table in front of him, taking care to put them in alphabetical order. Something about this situation made him very nervous. All of the sudden, Dan was hyper-aware of the fact that his knee was touching Phil’s and he felt too close. He slid down of the couch to sit cross legged on the floor. He continued sorting the games, not looking up to gauge Phil’s reaction.

“Pineapple ham?” Phil asked from behind him.

Dan let out a long tongue raspberry in response.

“What happened to I don’t care?” Phil prodded, poking Dan’s back with his toe.

“That was before you suggested eating a pizza with fruit on it,” Dan stated matter-of-factly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was offensive.”

“Very much so,” Dan replied with mock seriousness.

“Margherita pizza?” Phil suggested.

Dan thought for a moment before answering with “I’ll allow it.”

Phil laughed and slid down off the couch to sit on the ground next to Dan. So much for trying to put some space between them.

“You’re weird, “ Phil noted, running his finger down the stack of alphabetized games.

“Are you going to order?” Dan asked, choosing not to acknowledge the previous statement. Phil held up his phone in response, the screen showing a pizza store app with a picture of a pizza saying ‘Your order is on the way.”

“You pick a game?” Phil asked. Dan held up the Mario Kart 8, unable to keep the smile off his face at the thought of the impending battle to the death that Phil had no idea he was about to face.

“I don’t know if I like that look on your face,” Phil said, taking the game from Dan’s hand and walking over to put it in the Wii.

“I don’t know if I like your face,” Dan jabbed, back. He felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he realized what he said. Luckily, Phil didn’t make a big deal out of it.

“I don’t know if I like your MUM,” Phil said, handing Dan a controller.

“To be honest, I don’t know if 1 like my mum,” Dan answered, taking the controlled from Phil. “Prepare to get wrecked,” he added, sinisterly as the game started up.

“Are you really good?” Phil asked, suddenly looking worried.

“I’m not bad. I’m possibly just over confident,” he said, fighting to keep a smile off his face.

“Okay…” Phil said eying the boy suspiciously.

They went about choosing their cars. Dan went to adjust the speed from 100ccs to 150ccs, but Phil protested.

“That’s too fast!”

“It’s tooooooo fastttttt,” Dan parroted in a mocking tone. “Go fast or go home, Philly.”

“Don’t call me Philly,” Phil responded, pouting.

“Philly, Philly, Philly, Philly,” Dan chanted, moving on to the next screen.

“Ok, Daniel,” Phil said in a huff, nudging Dan with his shoulder.

“What? I’m not bothered,” Dan answered, letting the game rest on the track menu.

“Danny,” Phil tried

“Don’t care, Philip.”

“Dan-kun,” Phil retorted, raising the pitch of his voice.

“Phiru-Senpai,” Dan answered without thinking.

“Oh no. OH NOOOOOO,” Phil said looking at Dan with wide eyes. “Are you a weeaboo?”

“No!” Dan answered, knowing the exact opposite was kind of lowkey true. “Anyways, you literally started it, it was you, so are YOU a weeaboo?”

“No comment,’ Phil replied, turning back to the TV. “What road do you wanna play?”

“Which one do you like?”

“The jumpy mcjumperson one,” Phil replied, mimicking a car jumping with his hand.

“The one that’s just a straight line?” Dan asked, raising his eyebrows in disapproval.

“Yeah! It’s fun,” Phil insisted, selecting it. “I’m totally going to win this… beast..” Phil said, semi-confidently.

“Can’t handle Phil’s fighting talk,” Dan said, waiting for the game to start. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Phil pouting once more.

“You’re mean,” he whined.

“Never said I wasn’t,” Dan answered, hoping Phil was only joking. Maybe he was mean. He wasn’t really sure how to banter in the first place, he never was really that comfortable with someone.

“I still like you, though,” Phil said, as though he could since that Dan was unsure of his sincerity. Phil leaned into Dan’s side and and putting his head on his shoulder. Phil nuzzled him for a moment before sitting back up, the race about to start.

The doorbell rang just as the race was ending.

“I WON!” Dan yelled, then covered his mouth, realizing the pizza guy could probably hear him.

“Winner gets the door,” Phil said throwing down his controller in mock anger.

“No, because a) that awkward interaction is honestly a punishment, and b) this is your house, mate,” Dan replied, leaning back to rest against the sofa from where he sat on the floor.

“You make a good point, “ Phil said, standing up and pulling his wallet from his back pocket. Dan leaned to the side and pulled out his own wallet.

“Wanna go halfsies or what?” Dan asked opening his wallet to pull out the money.

“Nah, it’s on me,” Phil said.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Phil insisted, shooing away Dan’s wallet.

“Wow, quite the gentleman you are,” Dan said jokingly. “You know how to treat a boy right.”

“I try,” Phil said, walking down the hall to the front door.

Dan sat and watched the end screen from the last race on the TV. He heard Phil down the hall but couldn’t see him. The pizza guy was a little more than a murmur.

“Hey. Thanks. Ok. Here you go. No, I can- Oh. OK. Um..Bye. No I can still-” he heard Phil saying at the other end of the hall. Phil reentered moments later holding a pizza box and a bag with some other food items he hadn’t consulted Dan about.

“That was horrible,” Phil huffed, setting everything down on the table. “Drink?”

“Water’s fine. What was horrible?” Dan asked, looking through the bag Phil had set down. Garlic bread, salad, salad dressing, marinara dipping sauce, Phil really went all out.

“You sure? I have ribena, hot chocolate, coffee, tea..” Phil listed, not yet answering Dan’s question.

“OH, you had me at hot chocolate,” Dan said, perking up quickly at Phil’s words. “What was horrible?”

“The pizza interaction, we had a weird closing the door thing, he tried to and I also tried to and he grabbed my hand instead of the door knob,” Phil explained heating up the water for the hot chocolate. “You a marshmallow person?”

“I regret to inform you that I am not a person made of marshmallows. I hope you still want to be friends,” Dan said, arranging the food on the table.

“You know what I meant,” Phil said, throwing Dan a glance of annoyance.

“Yes, I like marshmallows, Phil,” Dan said, smiling at himself for his own joke. “So this pizzaman you went to eight base with, was he cute?”

He didn’t know what made him ask that. He didn’t know why the prospect of Phil saying yes made his stomach hurt. He swallowed.

“Nah, he was like 30. He’s too old for me,” Phil said, plopping marshmallows into the two cups he had poured. He carried them carefully over to the coffee table, set them down, then returned to the kitchen for plates.

“Oh,” Dan said, breathing in a breath of relief. Then another thought entered his head. If near thirty was too old for Phil, then how young is too young? “What’s your age range then?” Dan asked, mentally kicking himself almost as soon as the words left his lips.

Phil walked back in with a smirk on his lips. “What’s it to you?” he asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

Dan felt heat spread across his cheeks. “Just curious,” he answered, looking back down at the food on the table.

“Uh huh,” Phil responded, as though he felt Dan had more to say on the subject, like he was waiting for more.

 

“I need to ask you something,” Dan continued. “Something important.”

“Anything,” Phil said, his eyes wide behind his glasses. He sat back down on the floor next to Dan, this time facing him in full.

“Which hot chocolate is mine?” Dan asked with a completely straight face.

“You ass,” Phil said, his face breaking out into a smile. “The black mug is yours. I figured it fit more into your aesthetic,” Phil added, motioning to Dan’s outfit. Phil’s own mug was a One Direction mug.

“Oh, and a boy band is more your aesthetic?” Dan asked, chuckling.

“Louise gave it to me as a joke gift, I swear,” Phil said, holding up his hands as if to say he had nothing to do with it.

“Yeah, sure,” Dan replied, picking up his own hot chocolate and taking a sip.

Phil laughed when Dan pulled the cup away from his mouth.

“What?” Dan asked, suddenly worried he had done something wrong.

“You’ve got melty marshmallow on your nose,” Phil said, motioning to his own nose.

“Oh, shit,” Dan said, immediately putting his hands up to block his face from Phil’s view.

“Here, move your hand,” Phil said, grabbing a napkin.

Dan moved his hand reluctantly. Phil leaned in closer to him and wiped away the glob of marshmallow from Dan’s nose. Dan held his breath. Their faces were so close, and Phil seemed to be looking at him so intently that Dan swore Phil could see right through him into his brain. He could swear his heart was beating loud enough to be heard from a mile away. The moment lasted only seconds, but it felt like forever to Dan. Phil smirked, his eyes running over Dan’s face as though he knew just how nervous his closeness made Dan, before moving away from him and settling back into his seat.

“Want to watch a movie?” Phil asked, seemingly too casual, breaking the tension that Dan had felt fill the room only moments before.

“You already tired of Mario Kart?” Dan asked, looking down at his hands resting in his lap, trying to will his heart to slow down faster.

“No, but you can’t very well eat while working a controller,” Phil pointed out, opening the pizza box and taking out two pieces of pizza. He placed them on a plate and handed them to Dan. “Help yourself to the rest,” he added, motioning to the food Dan had arranged on the table.

“You make a good point,” Dan said, nodding as he took some salad and a piece of garlic bread.

“What do you want to watch?” Phil asked, preparing his own plate.

“I don’t mind, whatever you want.”

“I don’t mind, either,” Phil said.

“I don’t like responsibility, you choose,” Dan said, taking a bite of his pizza.

“You won Mario Kart, you choose,” Phil rebuked.

“My choice as winner of the race is to have you choose,” Dan replied.

“I can’t win, can I?” Phil asked.

“No, because I did,” Dan answered smugly.

“I heard that they put Moonrise Kingdom on Netflix recently, that’s a good movie. Have you seen it?” Phil asked, setting the TV to Netflix.

“I haven’t. Are you asking me to Netflix and chill, Phil?” Dan asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m asking you to Netflix and Phil,” Phil replied, looking proud of himself.

“Stop,” Dan said, taking a drink of his hot chocolate, careful not to let it touch his nose.

“So you’re alright with the movie?” Phil confirmed, changing the subject.

“Yeah. You’ve seen it?”

“Yeah, it’s so good,” Phil said, searching the title and selecting it when it came up.

They ate dinner in relative silence as they watched the movie. Dan could have sworn Phil moved closer to him on purpose when he went to reach for more food, but it could have just been to be within better reach of the food. When Phil settled back down, however, his arm was flush against Dan’s. That was where he lost track of the plot of the movie. He enjoyed what he watched, but he was much more interested in the way Phil’s skin felt against his, and the way Phil’s laugh sounded like music. He was more aware of how Phil looked over to check his expression, to make sure he was enjoying the movie. He was more focused in making sure Phil wasn’t looking his way when he looked at him, at turning away quicker than Phil’s eyes could turn to meet his. By the time the credits rolled across the screen, Dan felt as though he could give a pretty half ass synopsis of the film and a very in depth play by play of Phil’s every breath for the last hour and thirty-four minutes.

Phil turned to him as the screen faded finally to black and the Netflix ‘You May Also Enjoy” selections popped up. “So,” Phil asked, the light from the TV glaring across the lenses of his glasses, “What did you think?”

“I really liked it,” Dan assured him, though he wasn’t quite sure which thing he was talking about, the movie or Phil.

“I really like the colors,” Phil said.

“They seem like colors you would like,” Dan nodded. “I liked them, too,” he added, just to make sure Phil didn’t think he was insulting his taste.

“Yeah.”

Phil shut off the TV and stood up to shut off the lights. His lackluster reply made Dan worry that he hadn’t expressed his enjoyment of the movie well enough. He knew the feeling, showing someone something you really like and the person isn’t as responsive as you had hoped. He did like the movie, he was sure he would have liked it more had he not been distracted, which wasn’t really his fault.

“I like the part about the binoculars,” he said. “About how she pretends it’s her secret power.”

Phil turned back to him and smiled. ‘Yeah, I like that part, too. And what Sam says about it being like poetry.”

“That’s something people only say in movies, huh? But it was like poetry.” He paused. His mind was suddenly very full of things to say, and somehow, the seal between his brain and his mouth broke before he could think better of it. “I wish more things were like poetry.”

“What do you mean?” Phil asked, walking over and flopping down on the sofa behind Dan, lying so his chest was directly behind Dan’s head.

Dan tilted his head back so he felt as though his voice would travel better backwards to Phil.

“Like. I don’t know, sometimes I watch a movie, and everything is so… pastel and so beautiful and every line sounds more meaningful than anything I could hope to say in my lifetime and it makes me feel a little bit empty. It makes me wish real life was like that. That two little kids could run away and have a moment as beautiful as that one in the cove. That anyone of any age could have a moment like that, like a moment from a movie. But it can’t be. It won’t be,” Dan said, feeling very stupid about everything that fell out of his mouth.

“I get what you’re saying,” Phil said. Dan couldn’t see his face, but he imagined it was rather serious. He suddenly felt Phil’s hand in his hair, his body going rigid at the realization, then relaxing. Phil was running through his fingers through Dan’s hair like that was a completely normal thing for a friend to do. It sent tingles down Dan’s spine, the soft almost non-touch of Phil’s fingers giving him goosebumps. “But I think it can be. If you have the right people in your life. People that help you see the things in life that are poetic,” he paused. “If you have someone to be your binoculars, help you see things clearer, be your magic power.”

Dan hummed in agreement. “Where do you reckon I find one of those?” he asked, closing his eyes.

Phil’s hand stilled for a moment, almost imperceptibly, but then resumed. “I think you find them when you aren’t looking,” he answered finally, his voice soft.

Dan turned so he could rest his cheek on the couch and see Phil’s face at the same time.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“Stay over,” Phil said at the exact same time.

“What?” Dan said, a bit taken aback.

“Stay over. Here. Tonight,” Phil repeated. He looked very solemn as he waited for Dan’s answer.

“Why?”

“Because I’m worried about you,” Phil said nonchalantly, wrapping a lock of Dan’s hair around his finger.

“Oh.”

“If I can see you, I know you’re ok. If you go home, I’ll worry about you all night.”

“Will you?” Dan said, smiling weakly. He didn’t want to be the trainwreck friend that Phil worried about.

“Yeah,” Phil said, nodding. His glasses stayed in place as he nodded, pinned between the the couch cushion he was laying on and his face. “I also don’t want you to go home.”

“You’ve already said that,” Dan said.

“Yeah, but I mean it different this time,” Phil said, unwrapping and rewrapping the lock of hair around his finger.

When he didn’t elaborate, Dan asked him, “ How do you mean it?”

Phil was quiet for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Just not tired of you yet,” he said. “Here let’s go up to my room and we can find you something to sleep in.”

“Where will I sleep?” Dan asked, noting how Phil seemed to think he was staying even though he hadn’t accepted the invitation yet. He was going to, but he thought it funny that Phil was so sure of it.

“You can have my bed,” he said. He stood up and stretched, lifting his arms, his sweater lifting with them to expose a strip of his stomach. Dan tried not to look, but he didn’t try very hard. He chose to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.

“Where will you sleep?” Dan asked.

“Down here, I guess,” Phil said, shrugging and extending his hand to Dan, who was still in the floor. This seemed to be their room leaving routine. “This way,” Phil said, resting his hand on the small of Dan’s back as he guided him to the stairs. Everything about the next few moments felt too intimate for Dan to justify. Once in Phil’s room, Dan sat on the bed and watched as Phil sorted through his pajama drawer, looking for something for Dan to wear to bed. He handed Dan a neatly folded purple t-shirt and some green pajama pants. Very neon, very Phil.

“I’ll go find a toothbrush for you in our extra stash,” he said, leaving the room momentarily. Dan could hear him rummaging around in the bathroom down the hall. He took the few moments alone to change quickly. The shirt, which looked a little small for Phil, was even smaller on Dan. A strip of his stomach showed, which looked dumb, but the only way to cover it was to pull his pants up super high, which looked dumber.

Phil reentered the room with an unopened toothbrush in hand. Dan could have sworn he blushed a little upon seeing him, but he could have just been flushed from… walking quickly down the hallway or something. “Oh. Are you ready for bed already? I can leave you, now if you want.”

“No,” Dan answered, a little too quickly. “Stay.”  

“Okay,” Phil agreed, nodding and yawning.

“I’m going to go brush my teeth really quick,” Dan said, not knowing what else to do.

“Bathroom is down the hall,” Phil told him, walking back to his dresser to get out pajamas for himself.

The whole house was quiet as Dan got ready for bed. Phil’s roommates hadn’t returned yet, even though it was getting late. It was nearly midnight. Dan was feeling tired, which was weird seeing as he had slept most of the day. He thought maybe his body was trying to regulate itself and bring itself into semi normal sleep schedule. He splashed cold water on his face after he finished brushing his teeth, hoping that would wake him up. He didn’t want to be lame and fall asleep before Phil. He took a deep breath and made his way back down towards the hall. Upon entering Phil’s room, he found Phil already lying on one side of the bed, wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms, already asleep. Dan stood for a moment, contemplating his options. He could go lay on the couch and sleep, but that ran the risk of having to interact with Phil’s stranger roommates at some point during the night. He looked around Phil’s room and saw no viable sleeping spaces other than the floor, and he really wasn’t feeling spending the night on the hard ground. His only options were to climb over Phil into the empty space on the bed between Phil and the wall or to go home. Going home seemed incredibly rude, but climbing into bed with Phil seemed like crossing a line he wasn’t sure he had permission to cross. But it was the better of the two choices at hand.

Dan walked around to the foot of the bed, carefully climbed over the footboard, trying not to jostle the bed too much as he climbed onto his side. He lay down carefully, trying not to make too much contact with Phil as he did so. When he finally settled in, he realized he had forgotten to turn off the bedroom light. He sighed heavily. He got out of bed again with the utmost care not to wake Phil, switched off the light, and then went through the whole painful process of getting in the bed once more. Phil stirred a little bit this time, but did not open his eyes. He moved slightly closer to where Dan lay, nuzzled his face into the pillow and smiling as he did so. Dan wondered what he was thinking about briefly before turning his back to the other man and closing his own eyes. He drifted off to sleep thinking over the day he had had, and worrying that in the morning he would wake up and somehow it would have all been a dream.

 


	5. Chapter 5

_Well I haven't had enough and I said I had my fill./ The past does not exist and I'm told it never will./ I guess that I'm stuck here like a plant on a windowsill._ \- Dance Hall, Modest Mouse

Dan awoke suddenly in a room he did not recognize. He remembered as the sleep left his brain that he had spent the night at Phil’s. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, though the sun had yet to come up and the room was still tinged with the dim periwinkle of early dawn.  He became aware that someone was touching him. Touching was the wrong word. It was more like spooning. He was spooning with someone very warm and cuddly and he would enjoy it, if it weren’t for a multitude of reasons.

The first reason was that the person spooning him was Phil, and he was 99.9% sure that Phil didn’t know what he was doing. He had been asleep when Dan had crawled into bed and hadn’t anticipated Dan being there while he slept. He could just be someone that cuddled in his sleep, or he could have subconsciously assumed that since Dan was in his bed, he was whatever person Phil normally cuddled with in bed.

The second was that if Phil woke up and realized that he was in bed with Dan, Dan was sure he would freak out. Not that he seemed narrow-minded in any sense, in fact, he seemed quite the opposite. But, he had never suggested that he and Dan share a bed when he was figuring out sleeping arrangements last night, even though that seemed to be the most simple choice. That was most likely because Phil was probably uncomfortable with doing that.

Dan began to panic. He had made the wrong call last night and now he didn’t know how to get out of it without drawing attention to himself. He shouldn’t have just crawled into bed last night without asking Phil, and judging by the fact that he was still here, Dan figured he had not woken up in the night and realized what was going on. He needed to leave. He needed to get out as quickly and quietly as he could. Dan tried his best to lift Phil’s arm from where it lay on his stomach, but trying to pry it away only caused the sleeping boy to tighten his grip. Dan sighed. He should have just sucked it up and not been so scared of having to talk to Phil’s roommates last night and just slept on the couch. He reached for his phone, which he had placed on the window sill the night before and checked the time. It was barely five in the morning. He set the phone back down and went back to trying to escape Phil’s grasp.  He tried to resist the urge to just lie there and let Phil, bare chested, press up against him for the next few hours while he slept. He tried to push back the thought that this was nice and that he didn’t particularly want to leave. He focused on the fact that if Phil did wake up, he would have to explain why he was there and the position they were in, even though Phil was the cuddle perpetrator. He slid carefully up towards the headboard into a sitting position. Phil shifted slightly, bringing his other arm beneath Dan’s legs so that they were completely encircled by Phil’s arms.

“Fuck, really Phil?” Dan muttered under his breath. He pulled the pillow out from under his bum and carefully pulled out one leg, replacing it quickly by shoving the pillow in its place. He pulled the other leg out just as carefully and hoped the pillow would serve as enough of a substitute for Phil not to feel disturbed and wake up.

Dan stood up shakily, trying not to move the bed too much. Standing on the mattress, he was tall enough to brace his hand on the ceiling, so he pressed his hand to it to steady himself as he slowly stepped down the bed to the foot board. He climbed over the end and looked around the room, trying to remember where he set his clothes the night before. He would have just picked them up and left, but he didn’t want to walk down the street in someone else’s too small pajamas. He stripped as quickly as he could, changing back into his own clothes that he found on the floor by Phil’s desk, and folded up the pajamas, leaving them on the desk. He saw a stack of post-it notes and decided to leave a note so Phil didn’t worry about him. He picked up a pen and tapped the desk for a moment as he thought of what to write. He finally settled on “Sorry to leave while you were a sleep, something came up. Text me. <3 Dan.” He looked down at his hand trying to figure out what in hell possessed it to write a heart before his name. He considered scribbling it out, but he figured that would be worse.

He placed the note on top of the pajamas and made his way quietly to the door. He reached towards the doorknob, looking back at Phil in the bed before he did. The other man was currently snuggling up to the pillow, burying his face into it as he turned over in his sleep. A small pang sounded through Dan’s chest, telling him maybe this wasn’t what he should be doing, but he ignored it. He opened the door and slid out quietly. When he walked out into the hallway, he could hear the sounds of other people sleeping throughout the house, but he did not sense that anyone was up. He tiptoed down the stairs, cringing when the occasional floorboard creaked. He unlocked the front doorknob and the deadbolt, then locked the doorknob again so at least one of the locks would be done when he closed the door and the flat wasn’t wide open to intruders. He hurried down the street to his building, which was only about three houses away, but felt like an eternity. He pulled his keys out of his pocket when he reached the door and hurried upstairs to his room. He flopped down on his bed and sighed. He reached into his other pocket for his phone so he could browse through his twitter feed or something rather than sit there and stew, but he found it empty. He checked his other pockets as well, but found only his wallet and keys. His heart sunk. He knew exactly where it was. On Phil’s windowsill where he had left it. And he had locked Phil’s door on his way out, so he couldn’t sneak back in and get it now. It was just a waiting game.

***

Dan sat in the Starbucks down the road from his flat. He was staring at the clock on his laptop, which claimed that it was only eight in the morning, but Dan had felt like days had passed since he had bailed from Phil’s that morning. He had looked up Phil in the student directory to find his email and shot a message his way around two hours ago.

**To: Phil Lester**

**Subject: I’m a major dumbass**

**Hey Phil,**   
**So, I’m sorry I bailed on you this morning. I can explain it later. Or not, if it doesn’t matter. Anyway, I left a note telling you to text me, but here’s the thing, I left my phone on your windowsill, so that really won’t help much in the way of meeting me. I am at the usual Starbucks at the moment (the only place open at six in the morning) but I don’t know how long I will be there. If I’m not at my apartment, I’m here, but just email me when you wake up and I’ll can come to you to get my phone. Sorry again.**

**xx**

Dan

Now he was sat tapping nervously on the table and sipping at a mocha, which was probably not helping in the calming down department. The trouble with leaving his phone behind was he had been too stressed to just fall back asleep when he got home. He had been too stressed to even sit in his room and binge a show on Netflix. He needed to get out. So he had come to the coffee shop to maybe try and get some studying done, but to no avail. The only thing he could seem to think about was Phil, analyzing every interaction he had ever had with him, trying to figure out why Phil was so nice to him, and why Dan just couldn’t accept that. How could Phil, this sunshine beam of a human being, be as kind and caring as he was to Dan, who was actually a little black rain cloud hovering over a honeytree. He managed to make everything depressing, and Phil managed to make anything seem positive, so why would he want to soil that outlook with Dan’s pessimism. He felt he would ruin Phil just by being around him, and he couldn’t bear the thought to see Phil’s pure, beautiful soul to be tarnished by his heavy, dirty one.

Looking back now, he was sure that Phil wouldn’t have cared that they slept in the same bed. That was his own thing, his own weird freak out. Thinking about having to explain to Phil made his stomach sink, but he knew he owed to Phil to explain his strange behavior. He looked at the clock again. It was 8:16 AM. Phil was certainly giving him too much time to think about all of this. He wished Phil would wake up and email him. He wished he hadn’t let that morning and maybe had just gotten out of bed and sat at the desk and messed with his phone til Phil woke up. That would certainly have been less dramatic. But, hindsight was 20/20.

There was one question that kept popping up in his brain that he kept trying to push back, but as each minute passed, it was getting harder to ignore. That question was why did being close to Phil make him so scared? He had told himself a million times he just didn’t want someone to worry about him, that he didn’t want to have to be held accountable for his actions by someone, but every time he said it, it convinced him even less. He knew it was more based on the fact that when Phil’s skin accidentally brushed up against his, his stomach felt like a shaken bottle of soda. He knew the answer lay more in the fact that when he was lying there on the couch with Phil playing with his hair had been the happiest he had been in the entire time since he moved here. He knew the answer lay more in the fact that the fell asleep last night silently willing Phil to wake up and see him there, to touch him, to hug him, just to do something that showed him maybe Phil was feeling similarly to him. Dan’s stomach did a little flip as he let himself actually have the thought he had been trying not to have for the last three and a half hours. He knew the reason he left was because he could really see himself liking Phil, like liking him, and the idea of being that vulnerable with someone, really needing someone made him want to throw up.

He knew he couldn’t tell Phil that. He didn’t know how he would explain the whole situation to Phil. But he knew he couldn’t tell him that. He could barely allow himself to think it. And of course, if he told Phil, then Phil would know. He thought he would grow out of this whole thing, it all felt so juvenile. He was a grown man, out on his own, going to school, and he was too scared to hang out with a boy because he thought he could potentially, one day, MAYBE have a crush on him (if he didn’t already).

He took a long sip of his drink and refreshed his email inbox. Nothing new. He should have attached a read receipt, but he didn’t. He drummed tunelessly on the table. He checked his normal social media accounts for the hundredth time that day, but not many people were online that early in the morning. At a loss, he went to the place that all lost souls on the internet somehow ended up when other sites lacked entertaining content: Buzzfeed. He tried his best to focus on weird little articles and videos, even indulged in a couple of quizzes, and it worked for the most part. He may have even gone more than three minutes without his mind drifting towards his worries concerning Phil.

The Saturday Starbucks morning rush was in full swing now. There had been semi-steady stream of people in and out of the door from six when he got there and now at 8:30 AM, but now the number of people walking through the door was so great that Dan didn’t even bother to turn and look to see who it was. The door was opening and closing every other second, he would get whiplash if he looked every time he heard the hinges creak open. Which explains why he didn’t realize Phil had walked in until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Phil said as Dan turned around at the unanticipated touch.

“Oh,” Dan said, breathing a sigh of relief that it wasn’t a stranger. “Hey, Phil.”

“Mind if I sit?” Phil asked, motioning to the seat across the table from Dan.

“Yeah, of course, go for it,” Dan said, moving his backpack off the table so Phil’s side was clear.

“I have something for you,” Phil mentioned, waving Dan’s black iPhone teasingly at him.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Dan said, taking it from the other man gingerly. He hit the home button but only saw a text message from Phil.

“I texted you before I saw the note, and when I heard it buzz, I realized you forgot it,” Phil explained, noticing Dan’s look of confusion at his home screen.

“Oh, ok,” Dan said, unlocking the phone and reading what Phil had said.

**To Dan: Where are you??? Are you ok?**

“So,” Phil said rather flatly, tracing a pattern onto the table. “What came up? I was really worried when I woke up and saw you weren’t in the bed anymore.”

Dan froze when he heard that. Phil had known he was there in the bed with him.  

“I- uh. My stomach hurt and I thought it would be, um, less embarrassing if I went home,” Dan stuttered, saying the first thing that popped into his head.

“Oh.. OK.” He paused before continuing with, “You could have come back, you know.”

“I know. I thought about it, but I remembered I locked the door behind me,” Dan said, closing his laptop so he could focus more on Phil.

Phil squinted at him suspiciously. “Dan?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you being so weird?” he asked, not making eye contact. He placed both hands down on the table in front of him and stared at them intently.

“Am not,” Dan said, smiling weakly.

“Are, too,” Phil said, giving a small smirk in return.

“Want to get out of here?”

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Phil asked.

Dan took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. “Yes,” he finally decided.

Phil nodded. “Yeah, then. Where to?”

“My room?” Dan asked.

“You lead the way,” Phil said. He sat until Dan finished packing up his things, then stood and held the door for Dan.

They walked the whole way in silence. Dan could sense that Phil wanted to say something and he could tell Phil could sense that he really did not want to say anything. His roommate was still sleeping when he and Phil entered the apartment. He put a finger to his lip to tell Phil to stay quiet, which Phil made a face at as if to say “As if I am loud and unpredictable?” They padded quietly to Dan’s room, Phil walking in first and Dan quietly closing the door behind them.

Phil plopped down on the bed, kicking off his shoes. Dan put his stuff down and sat down on the ground directly in front of Phil.

“So,” Phil said, lying down on his stomach, resting his chin in his hands, “why are you being so strange, Daniel?”

Dan cleared his throat a few times before saying, “I felt like I had accidentally crossed a line and freaked out.” Well, he wasn’t lying completely. He was worried Phil would be weirded out he hadn’t woken him before getting into bed last night.

“How? Because you slept in the bed I told you to sleep in? I mean, I was the one that accidentally fell asleep in it,” Phil said, confused.

“Yeah,” Dan shrugged. “But I could have gone downstairs and slept on the couch and given you… you know… some space.”

Phil cocked his head to the side. “Maybe… I crossed a line here, Dan. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by, you know, making any contact I shouldn’t have last night. I thought you wanted.. that… You must have been asleep but you were kind of cuddling me first last night and it woke me up so I reciprocated.”

“I…. I did?” Dan asked, his stomach sinking. What if he spoke while he was sleeping? He didn’t know how he would deal with that.

“Yeah, sorry.. Now that we have that all cleared up are we good?” Phil asked, looking at Dan hopefully.

“Of course,” Dan assured him. There was still some tension in the room, but Dan felt like they would be able to push that behind him.

 

Phil repositioned himself on the bed so he was sitting up. “What are you doing today?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing at all,” Dan said. “Maybe some homework later, but I got a little done this morning.

“Can I interest you in a movie or maybe a TV show binge watch?” Phil asked, smiling hopefully.

“Do I have to move?” Dan said, standing up and flopping down on the bed next to Phil.

“You have a laptop we can stream on?”

“Yep.”

“Then nope,” Phil said smiling. “Want me to get it out of your backpack so you don’t have to get back up?”

Dan smiled. “You know me so well.”

“Want to watch The X-Files?” Phil asked after taking out Dan’s computer and scrolling through the Netflix home page.

“Sounds good to me,” Dan nodded, patting the bed next to him. It was only a twin, so when Phil lay down, their bodies were flush next to each other from shoulder to toe. Dan felt the butterflies spread back through his stomach as Phil settled into a more comfortable position. Kill me, kill me, kill me he thought to himself as Phil’s head came to rest on his shoulder.

They sat that way until they got hungry, but even then Dan just made them ramen and they ate in Dan’s room. They made it through the whole first season before Dan passed the hell out from lack of sleep the night before.

 


	6. Chapter 6

_I didn't lie and I ain't sayin' /I told the whole truth. /I didn't know that this game we were playin' /Even had a set of rules._ \- Black Cadillacs, Modest Mouse

To say that Dan felt guilty about how he had been treating Phil was an understatement. Guilt was the right word, but it didn’t convey the soul crushing intensity of the feeling. All Phil had done for him was try to be a friend when he saw that Dan had none, and all Dan had done was push him away. When he had awoken that night after watching the X-Files with Phil for God knows how long, it was around one in the morning and  he was alone, his laptop sitting quietly on his bedside table with a note. A taste of his own medicine, though he felt Phil left to make Dan more comfortable, not because he felt the need to himself.

He switched on the lamp. The note read: “I let myself out, hope that’s ok. You seemed pretty tired. See you tomorrow? Txt me bb xx Phil :)”

Dan chuckled. He was sure Phil hadn’t meant text him in the middle of the night should he wake up and feel the need, but he decided to anyway.

**From Dan: We can never just Netflix and chill like normal people can we? Always gotta pull that leave in the middle of the night bit.**

Dan cringed at what he had written, but he had already pressed send. Too late to turn back now. He went to put his phone back on his nightstand and try to fall back asleep, but it buzzed just as he set it down.

**To Dan: Maybe Netflix and leave will be our always.**

Dan rolled his eyes at the joke format, one that had been quite popular on tumblr as of late.

**From Dan: Actually shut up.**

**To Dan: Make me.**

**From Dan: Why are you even awake?**

**To Dan: I could ask you the same question?**

**From Dan: That is tru**

**To Dan: I didn’t want to bother you about it earlier because you seemed weird and then you seemed super into the X-Files so I didn’t want to ruin that for you, but are you ok? Like are you feeling better than you were before you came over?**

Dan thought for a moment. He felt better when he was talking to Phil and having casual banter, but every time it died out or the conversation got more serious, he was reminded that he didn’t feel that great, no. He felt badly. He felt like within the last few days, he had really become a burden for Phil, that he had taken advantage of Phil’s kindness and had pretty much dumped all his baggage on him, and he felt like shit for it. But if he told Phil that, then he would just be doing the same thing all over again. He took a deep breath and decided in that moment that only if something was horribly, horribly wrong would he tell Phil. The little things, like this, he could keep to himself. He had made it nineteen years living under that policy, he didn’t see a reason to stop now.

**From Dan: I’m fine, Phil :) You don’t need to worry about me.**

**To Dan: Ok. I’ll worry, anyway though, just so you know.**

**From Dan: I wish you wouldn’t**

**To Dan; You’re not the boss of me tho, so :p**

**From Dan: Are you actually 12?**

**To Dan: Um, I’m 14…..**

**From Dan: Shut up**

**To Dan: So will I see you tomorrow?**

**From Dan: I would like to, but I have homework.**

**To Dan: If you want, you can come over here, or I can come over there and we can co-work**

**From Dan: Co-work?**

**To Dan: Like each do our own thing but in the same room? It’s like hanging out but not paying attention to each other that much. Basically, we’d just be there for each other’s moral support.**

**From Dan: I can get behind that. Wanna come here?**

**To Dan: Sure. Text me when you wake up. See you tomorrow.**

**From Dan: See you :)**

 

Dan fell asleep again that night feeling slightly better than he had before, but still feeling guilty that he wasn’t telling Phil everything, when he knew Phil would genuinely want to know what was going on, if there was anything. Even if it was small.

***

Bottling things up worked for a while. For nearly two months, Dan was able to convince Phil that really, truly, he was fine. Not that it was an easy feat. Starting that weekend, they began to spend every waking moment with each other, and it was hard to hide something from someone when you can’t remember the last day you didn’t spend time with them. If Dan wasn’t at Phil’s place, Phil as at Dan’s. It got to the point where they started keeping a toothbrush at the other’s place in case they both got tired and couldn’t be bothered to walk the three house gap between their places to go to bed and instead just had an impromptu sleepover. Shortly after the toothbrush development, they also both started keeping a couple sets of their own clothes at in the other’s closets because they were both tired of lending each other t-shirts and pajama bottoms and never getting them back. Eventually, they became like weird nomads, switching off apartments every once and always sleeping in the same place. It became their normal. To spend the night without the other one in the vicinity became a non-option.

The first couple of times they had sleepovers at Dan’s place, Dan would sleep on the floor and give Phil the bed, because he didn’t want either of them to encounter his asshole roommate while braving a night on the couch. The whole separate sleeping spaces certainly worked better at Phil’s house because Phil actually liked his flatmates and didn’t mind sleeping downstairs. But after three straight nights on the floor, Dan couldn’t take it anymore. He convinced himself it was ridiculous that he, a grown man, was too chickenshit to share a bed with his best friend because he didn’t want to have a freak out again like he had last time. He knew there was nothing behind what had happened last time. At least on Phil’s end. He could ignore the fact that sometimes he got butterflies in his stomach when Phil touched his arm or played with his hair or even just looked at him for too long. He attempted ignored every other emotion he had, this was just a couple more to add to an already long list.

On the evening of what was looking like Dan’s fourth night on the floor he asked Phil, “You staying here tonight?”

“You have other plans?” Phil asked, looking up from the book he was reading. He was sprawled out on the floor with a textbook taking notes while Dan sat on the bed with his computer, pretending to research for an English paper, but actually just scrolling through tumblr.

“Not that I know of,” Dan said, shooting Phil a confused look as if to say what other plans would I have?

“Then I’m where ever you want me to be,” Phil answered, shrugging and turning the page.

“I’m too lazy to move,” Dan sighed, sitting up and putting his laptop to the side.

“Well, I have one more clean outfit here, so staying here is fine,” Phil said, highlighting something in his textbook quickly.

“I might go sleep out on the couch tonight,” Dan said, trying to steer the conversation to a direction that was more to his favor.

“But then you’ll have to face the dreaded Chris,” Phil teased, looking up at Dan over the rims of his glasses.

“Well, I mean,” Dan hesitated. “I could stay in here if you’re ok with maybe sharing the bed. It’s just, my back kind of hurts and the bed is tiny so it could be uncomfortable bu-”

Phil laughed. “Dan, I’ve always been fine with that, you’re the one who has been weird about it.”

“Alright, that’s settled then,” Dan said nodding.

 

And from that point on, they started consistently sharing beds. That didn’t make it easier for Dan to try and push away any of the emotions he was feeling towards the other boy, but it definitely wasn’t unpleasant. It also made it so they spent nearly 24 hours a day with each other, excluding the classes they did not have together. This meant that Dan was rarely ever alone, which actually seemed to be good for him. Not being alone didn’t give him time to sit there and stew over things. And even if he wanted to, he couldn’t because Phil would ask what’s wrong, and that was the last thing he wanted. He wanted Phil to think he was ok. The only time he really was alone was when Phil had classes on mornings that Dan didn’t. He would wake up alone on the mornings Phil had class and he didn’t, which was fine in his own flat, but somewhat terrifying at Phil’s. See, he had somehow managed to go two months of practically living at the place half of every week without having to actually meet the roommates. It’s not that he was actively avoiding them. Well, he was, but two months was an unusually lucky streak even factoring that in. When he woke up alone at Phil’s, he waited until the flat was absolutely silent before he would get out of bed, throw on some clothes, and slip out the front door before anyone could come back and notice him. That all worked fine, until one morning, as he was tiptoeing through the lounge towards the front door, he was met with a voice.

“You must be Dan,” a girl’s voice called from the kitchen.

Dan let out a little yelp and spun on his heels to find a young blonde woman sat at the breakfast table. She was holding a cup of coffee and reading something on the laptop in front of here. She seemingly hadn’t even looked up from the screen when she spoke to him, but was aware of his presence all the same.

“I must be,” Dan stuttered, unsure of what to do. He remained where he stood, his arms crossed, uncomfortably shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Come. Sit. Have a cup of coffee,” she said, motioning towards the coffee maker. “And don’t pretend you don’t like coffee, I know you do, with all the time Phil’s been spending at Starbucks.”

Dan obeyed. He felt strange knowing exactly where to find the mugs in the kitchen and where the spoons and sugar were but not really knowing anything about the woman sat at the table, even though she lived here. Suddenly, he felt a bit rude. He made himself a cup of coffee and sat directly across from here, waiting for her to speak, perhaps introduce herself. Something to end this uncomfortable silence. Although, only he seemed to be uncomfortable with the situation.

As if reading his mind, she said, “I’m Louise, by the way.” She looked up from the computer and gave Dan a quick once over. He was suddenly very self conscious. He reached up and tried to flatten his bed tousled hair as he felt her eyes run over his face. “Phil says you’re shy,” she continued, taking a sip of her drink.

“Uh, Phil would be right,” Dan said quietly, stirring his coffee although it didn’t need anymore stirring. It was something to do.

“That explains why we never see you,” Louise speculated, turning back to the computer. “We were starting to think you weren’t real, except then where would Phil be half the time, when he says he’s at yours. We thought maybe he was attending meetings for a secret cult or something. Or maybe that he was seeing someone and didn’t want to bring him home to meet his “family” yet.”

“Well,” Dan said, smiling, “I’m real.” He mentally kicked himself. He was so lame.

“That you are,” Louise nodded.

“Not a cult or a girlfriend,” he added awkwardly.

“I never said anything about a girlfriend,” Louise pointed out, squinting at him suspiciously. “Anyway, he doesn’t have time to see anyone else with all the time he spends with you.”

“What do you mean?” Dan asked, his stomach tightening. He was sure he looked absolutely terrified. He tried to calm himself down and bring his expression to that of a person who was not about to shit his pants.

“Well, I mean, I’m not sure, but last time I checked, you were Phil’s something. Best friend? Boyfriend? He won’t tell me, but hell, I’ve never seen him spend so much time with anyone. Not even the last person he was seeing. ”

“I’m his friend, that’s all” Dan answered, more of a question than a statement.

“Hmmmm,” Louise responded. She didn’t seem to buy it at all, even though it was the truth.

“What?” Dan asked, feeling slightly defensive.

“Nothing,” Louise said, pursing her lips as though she was trying to look innocent.

“Well, obviously something,” Dan prodded, feeling brave. If Louise had something to say, he wanted her to say it.

“You just didn’t seem that confident in your answer,” Louise said. “And Phil never does either. So I was just thinking that maybe you both want the answer to be different.”

“Oh.”

This was the first time someone besides himself in his own head had pointed out that maybe he and Phil didn’t act in a way that most people who are just friends do. Which made him think that maybe he wasn’t crazy for thinking or maybe hoping Phil could see him as something more. But it also made him feel as though he should leave before he said something he would regret. Something that could get back to Phil and ruin everything.

“Well, would you look at the time,” Dan said, looking at his phone. It was Thursday and he didn’t have any classes that day, but what Louise didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. “I really have to get going.”

“Hmmm.. Ok..” Louise said, taking another sip of her coffee. Dan stood up and emptied his cup in the sink, then put it in the dishwasher.

“I’ll be seeing you, I guess,” Dan said as he made his way out of the kitchen.

“See you,” Louise said, shooting him a sunny smile. Dan made it all the way to the front door before Louise called, “Oh, and Dan? Phil told me you don’t have classes Thursday this morning. So, you bolting just leads me to believe I was right about you and Phil. Or at least you.”

Dan stood dead in his tracks. He didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t tell him,” was all he could manage.

“Don’t worry, ” Louise said. “Just know from now on that I know pretty much everything.”

“Can’t get anything past you, huh?” Dan said nervously, his hand on the doorknob. “It’s like you can read minds.”

Louise laughed but didn’t say no. For a second Dan almost believed she could.

He closed and locked the door behind him and hurried down the street. It was only nine in the morning and there was a good chance he could get home before Chris woke up. When he got to the door to his flat, he pressed his ear up to the wood momentarily, trying to pick out any noises that would hint at someone being home. Finding the place to be silent, he quietly let himself in and made his way to his bedroom. He decided to take a shower before his bathroom was taken over by the other boy and before Phil got out of class and wanted to see him. He allowed himself a long shower this morning as it was a little chilly in the apartment. When he got out, he found Chris standing at the mirror brushing his teeth.

Shit, Dan cursed internally, but he plastered on an amicable smile to avoid instigating anything.

“Just get back from your boyfriend’s place?” Chris asked, spitting into the sink.

“Not my boyfriend,” Dan said for probably the three hundredth time that week, the smile falling from his face.

“I don’t get why you don’t just come clean about it. Anytime you’re here, he is, and if he isn’t here, you aren’t so I assume you’re at his,” Chris sighed, annoyed. He put his toothbrush back in the holder and washed his spit down the drain.

“He’s just a close friend, ok?” Dan insisted. This was getting really old, the whole trying to explain everything to literally everyone he knew.

“Listen. I’m trying to be fucking nice, ok? I don’t give a shit if you’re gay or bisexual or whatever you are, but don’t lie to my face. It’s enough to live with real life Eeyore who complains about fucking toothpaste on the counters  all the time, you don’t have to be a fucking liar,” Chris spat, his anger rather sudden.

Dan was taken aback. He was just standing there in his towel getting out of the shower, and more over he was telling the truth. He didn’t know what he did to deserve this outburst of anger.

“Chris,” Dan began, trying his best not to let his voice waver. “ I’m not dating Phil. Maybe I do like him, but he doesn’t know that, and I would appreciate if you didn’t tell him.” He swallowed, taking a deep breath. “As for being real life Eeyore, I’m sorry that I am sad or grumpy sometimes, but I don’t see that as a reason to launch a fucking personal attack on me. You aren’t exactly super fucking fun to be around, either.”

“Whatever. Are you done in here?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, shaking his head. “Asshole,” he added under his breath as he walked out the door.

“What did you say?” Chris asked, following Dan out.

“Nothing,” Dan said, his chest tightening.

“Yeah, fuck you,” Chris said, pulling back his fist and punching Dan hard in the left side of his face.

“Shit, Chris, what the fuck?” Dan said, bringing his hand up to his face. He looked at his fingers but saw no blood.

“Don’t call me an asshole, you fuckwad,” Chris said, bringing his fist down once more in the same spot. Dan was taken by surprise this time and fell backwards into the wall.

He leaned against the wall breathing heavily, holding his arm up to block any other hits Chris attempted.

“I don’t wanna hear a word out of you ever again, understood?” Chris hissed.

Dan didn’t answer.

“We’re off to a good start on that, then,” Chris smiled.

He walked back into the bathroom and closed the door. Dan hurried into his room and looked into the mirror. There was no blood, but there was already minor bruising around his left eye. He got dressed quickly and threw some clothes into his bag. He figured it would be better if he stayed out the flat for a few days. He grabbed all the school books he would need and his computer and chargers as well. He couldn’t risk coming back for something and running into Chris, and he didn’t exactly want to.

After he gathered everything he would need for the next few days, he opened his door to scope out where Chris was in the apartment. He heard the shower running and decided it was safe to bolt through the apartment and out the door. Once he was outside, he realized that he didn’t have a place to go. Phil was still in class, but he didn’t want to go sit in public with his huge bag of stuff. He wracked his brain for where to go, standing in the hall outside his apartment. He needed to get out of there before Chris decided to leave the apartment and saw him standing there.

He would go back to Phil’s place, he decided. If Louise was still there, he was sure she would understand. She seemed nice enough, even if she seemed a bit suspicious of him. If she wasn’t still there, well, he would deal with that when he got there. He walked quickly to Phil’s place, keeping his face down, sure the bruise had darkened more by now. He realized now that he should have worn a hoodie or sunglasses, or just something to cover up the majority of it, but too little too late. He turned up the walk to Phil’s front door. He hesitated for a moment, but decided it would be weirder to be found just standing on the doorstep with basically most of his important belongings  than to knock on the door, so he knocked three times and stepped back, once more keeping his head down so this injury would hopefully not be the first thing the person who answered, hopefully Louise, noticed.

The door swung open to reveal Louise. “Oh, Dan, hey, you forget someth- Oh my god,” Louise gasped stepping towards him. ‘You’ve been gone for barely half an hour, how’d you manage this?”

She had tilted his face up and was now holding his chin in one hand and brushing his hair back with another, examining the bruise on his face.

“My roommate doesn’t like me very much,” Dan said, smiling weakly.

“I’d say,” Louise nodded. “Come in, then, let’s get some ice on it. PJ just got home, by the way.”

Dan’s stomach sank. He was about to meet one of Phil’s best friends for the first time looking like he was an actual member of the Fight Club. Louise led him into the flat, taking his bag putting it on the sofa before leading him into the kitchen.

“Sit,” she ordered him for the second time today, and he obeyed once more. She was rummaging through the freezer looking for an ice pack when a young man, presumably PJ, walked in, looking a bit taken aback by Dan sitting at the table.

“Lou, what did I tell you about taking in strays?” he said, leaning up against the counter.

“He’s not a stray, PJ,” Louise answered, rolling her eyes. “He’s DAN.”  She handed Dan a bag of frozen peas. “This is the best I could find, love. Put it on your eye, please.”

“Wait,” PJ said, eyes widening in mock amazement, “The Dan? Dan Howell? Phil’s Lord and Savior?”

“Oh, give him a break, Peej,” Louise scolded. She turned to Dan, who was too busy being mortified to bring the peas up to his eye. “Hey, I don’t see you icing that bruise, why’s that?”

“Sorry, mum,” Dan said jokingly.

“Yeah, sorry, Mum,” Pj echoed, smiling mischievously. ‘Well, Dan, it’s nice to finally put a face to a name. Even if your face is a bit messed up at the moment.”

“Hey,” Louise warned.

“Your face is lovely, Dan,” Pj assured him apologetically. “Your black eye isn’t even that bad. It’s hardly noticeable.”

Louise burst out laughing. “Sorry. Sorry, your face is lovely, Dan, I promise, but that last part was bullshit. You can tell someone clocked you from a mile away.”

“Well, I was just trying to make him feel better, way to go and ruin it,” PJ pouted. “What happened anyway?”

Dan opened his mouth to speak, but Louise beat him to it. “Flatmate doesn’t like him, apparently.”

“Oh, yeah, Phil said something about that,” PJ agreed.

“Phil talks about me?” Dan asked.

“On the rare occasions we see him, yes, incessantly. But he’s almost always with you now a days, isn’t he, mate?” PJ pointed out.

“Oh, yeah,” Dan realized. Phil didn’t really have time to talk to his other friends if he was always with Dan.

“But he texts us about you a lot,” PJ continued. “You must really be something, kid. Phil doesn’t take to people as easily as he’s taken to you.”

Dan hoped they would just attribute the blush that rose to his cheeks to the peas he was holding to his eye making them cold and not the fact that what PJ had just said had made him really happy. His stomach felt all fluttery. He had always thought Phil was just really friendly, but if he didn’t, that meant he must really like Dan. Maybe even LIKE Dan.

“I mean, hell, it took me a few months to convince him to come to my place for a movie night when we met our first year and he asked you after talking to you, like, twice,” PJ said, sitting at the table across from Dan.

Louise nodded and added, “It took him nearly four months from him to trust me enough to tell me he dyed his hair, and all you have to do is look at him to know that!”

They all laughed. Louise walked over to Dan and lifted the peas to look at the skin underneath. “I don’t know if this is going to help to be honest. I think you’re supposed to ice before a bruise can settle,” she said, touching the skin around his eye softly. Dan winced, sucking in air through his teeth. “Sorry,” she said, pulling her hand away quickly. “You poor baby.”

“Who’s a poor baby?”

They all turned to see Phil standing in the lounge, apparently having walked in while they were all distracted with laughing. Dan only knew it was him by his voice, as Louise was stood in front of him, effectively blocking Phil from his view and himself from Phil’s.

“Ok, Phil,” Louise began cautiously, “I don’t want you to freak out, but-”

“You talking like this is freaking me out, what’s up?” Phil asked, more urgent this time.

Louise stepped to the side, allowing Phil to see Dan for the first time.

“Oh my god,” Phil gasped, rushing towards Dan. Upon reaching him, he grabbed Dan’s face in both hands, examining him. “What the hell happened, Dan? Who did this?”

“You should see the other guy,” Dan joked weakly.

“Did you get in a fight?” Phil asked, confused. A fight would definitely be out of character for Dan.

“No,” Dan admitted. “It was sort of one sided.”

“Well, who the fuck did it?”

The curse sounded foreign coming from Phil’s mouth. Sure, he cussed, but fuck was reserved for special occasions and was only uttered when Phil felt the situation truly deserved it.

Dan hesitated, the name catching in his throat. He had been lying to Phil recently, claiming when he had gone back to his own place by himself that Chris hadn’t been causing any problems. Obviously, they had been butting heads, but Dan had accepted that that would be normal and as long as things didn’t escalate, they would be fine. Obviously, they had escalated and things weren’t fine. Finally, he spat it out. “Chris,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

Phil dropped his hands. “I thought you said things with him were ok.”

“They are. When you’re there.”

“And when I’m not?”

“He makes fun of me because he thinks we’re dating and I guess that makes him uncomfortable.”

“Oh.”

Dan had expected him to say something else. He thought Phil would ask what Dan said when Chris asked him about them, he thought he would possibly acknowledge the reason Chris was acting so hostile towards him, not just utter one syllable.

“Do you mind if I talk to Dan privately really quick, guys?” Phil suddenly asked, looking up at PJ and Louise, who looked somewhat uncomfortable.

“Not at all,” Louise said, walking out of the room almost immediately.

“Go for it,” PJ agreed, patting Phil on the shoulder before exiting the room.

Phil pulled up on of the kitchen chairs so he could sit directly in front of Dan. He began to speak.

“I know I can’t tell you what to do, but I really don’t like the idea of you going back there. I would feel sick knowing you’re there with him by yourself if you did. So,” Phil paused, taking a deep breath. “Move in with us, please?”

“There’s only three rooms here.”

“Yeah,” Phil nodded, seemingly disappointed. Maybe he hadn’t thought of that. “So, say that’s only temporary. You can have my room until term ends and then you and I can move out on our own.”

“I don’t want to take your room, Phil.”

“Well, I won’t have you sleep on the couch,” Phil retorted.

“Why can’t we just do what we’ve been doing? I promise I won’t go to my place unless I’m with you. But my housing is paid up till the end of term and I can’t just camp out at your house and not contribute,” Dan pointed out.

“They would understand!” Phil said. “They’re good people, they would want you to be safe!”

Dan huffed, frustrated.

“Please.”

“Can I think about it?” Dan asked.

“Don’t think on it too long,” Phil urged. He smiled, as though he was trying to make Dan feel encouraged, but Dan could see through that. He could see the sadness and worry in Phil’s eyes and he hated himself for it.

“I just… I just don’t want to be a burden.” Dan whispered.

“Don’t.”

Dan looked up, surprised at the harshness in Phil’s voice. Phil’s eyes were dark and his forced smile gone. He had never seen Phil this genuinely angry. He leaned back in his chair, putting some space between himself and the other man. He felt sick to his stomach.

“What?” he stuttered in response.

“I don’t ever want you to hear you say that again, Dan. You are not a burden. You are a lot of things, but you are not a burden. I don’t know how you got it in your head that you don’t deserve to have someone care about you. I’ve tried to prove to you everyday since you confided that in me that you deserve to have someone look after you. I want to be here for you, Dan. You just have to let me be,” Phil said, shaking his head seemingly in disbelief. Dan didn’t know what to say. Phil continued, his eyes getting slightly misty. “I just - I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about Chris. I mean, I trusted you when you said things were fine.”

Dan turned away from Phil, unable to look at him in this state. He had done this to him.

“I’m sorry,” Dan whispered, his voice breaking.

“I don’t want to make you feel badly, Dan, please look at me,” Phil said gently, putting his hand on the boy’s knee. He waited for Dan to turn back to him, but went on speaking when he realized that he wouldn’t. “I’m sorry, I was being harsh. I’m just hurt that you didn’t tell me. And now I don’t know how to trust you when you tell me things are ok in this situation because how do I know whether you’re just saying it to make me feel better? If you want me to feel better, get out of that house. You don’t have to come live here if you don’t want to, but Dan, I don’t trust Chris not to hurt you again. And if he does, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go but here,” Dan said after a long pause. He was still looking at the floor rather than Phil.

“Is that a yes, then? You’ll stay here?” Phil asked.

“Just until next term,” Dan said.

“Yes, and then you and I will find a place. My flatmates will understand. I promise,” Phil assured him.

“You don’t need to convince me anymore, Phil, I’m staying,” Dan replied, finally turning back to Phil. “I mean, I need to go back and get the rest of my stuff, but I’ll stay.”  
“We’ll go back next time you are sure Chris has a class long enough to give us time to clear out your things,” Phil promised. He stood up and put his chair back where he had gotten it. “You ice that thing?” he asked, pointing at Dan’s black eye as he walked towards the freezer.

“Louise tried, but she didn’t think it was doing any good,” Dan said, standing up and leaning against the counter.

“Oh, well. Louise knows more about most things than me,” Phil chuckled.

Dan smiled a real smile for the first time today.

“There it is,” Phil said, poking Dan in the cheek where it dimpled. “I didn’t think I’d get to see that smile today.”

The affection in Phil’s voice made Dan’s smile widen. He was sure his heart was beating so loudly that he was sure Phil could hear it from where he stood. Phil must have also been overcome with emotion because in that moment, he seized Dan in a hug so tight, he could barely breath. After a moment’s shock, he wrapped his arms around the other man, burying his face in his shoulder, despite the slight discomfort he felt as Phil’s sweater rubbed up against his injured eye.

Phil turned so his lips were so close to Dan’s ear that he swore he could almost feel them moving as Phil spoke. “Please don’t ever feel like you have to protect me from what you’re feeling or what you’re going through by not telling me. I’d be more hurt by you not telling me. I want to know. Promise me, please” he whispered. Dan shivered at the breath against his ear and nodded.

“I’ll try harder not to. I promise,” Dan whispered back.


	7. Chapter 7

_Everyone's an ocean drowning/ With no one really to show how/They might get a little better air/If they turned themselves into a cloud-_ Blame It on the Tetons, Modest Mouse

The next class Dan was sure Chris had was at five that evening. Dan went back to his flat accompanied by Phil, PJ, and Louise, all three of whom supplied their largest suitcases to try to pack away Dan’s life into. They rushed like mad men through the apartment throwing dishes, toiletries, sheets, clothing, and anything else Dan could find that belonged to him haphazardly into the suitcases. They managed to get in and out in about an hour. Dan contemplated leaving a note, but he decided against it. He figured the absence of this things would be enough of a message. They walked back down the street, all dragging a suitcase apart from Louise, who was busy making a phone call to order Chinese take out. They were going to have a celebratory house warming dinner for Dan, all though Dan figured it was less of a house warming celebration and more of a let’s distract Dan from what happened today type of thing.

When they got to the flat, the boys carried the suitcases upstairs and Louise went to go make a space in the linen closet for Dan’s sheets and towels. He couldn’t say he didn’t feel welcomed. He had never really had a group of people rally around him in a time of personal crisis, he supposed because for the most part, he never let on that he wasn’t ok, but this certainly made him feel safe. He and Phil sat in the bedroom, trying to organize the mish mosh of things in the suitcase.

“I think I’ll just leave my clothes in here for now if that’s alright,” Dan said, folding his shirts and stacking them in piles, smelling them occasionally to check their state of cleanliness. In his rush, he had thrown all his dirty and clean clothes together and was trying to work of memory to discern which was which.

“Are you sure?” Phil asked, taking out any toiletries he could find and putting them together so they could be moved to the bathroom. “I can try and make room in the dresser and wardrobe for you.”

“No, these are fine,” Dan insisted.

“Ok. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to live out of a suitcase here because you need to be ready to move out. The place is yours as much as it is ours now,” Phil assured him.

“Oh, no, I’m just suggesting it to make up for lack of storage. I won’t be running off with them at any time soon,” Dan responded, moving on to folding pants.

“Alright, as long as I won’t wake up to find you’ve run away,” Phil joked.

Dan almost replied by saying he would never, but then he remembered the first night he had ever stayed here and decided against it.

The night was rather uneventful. After they had finished unpacking Dan's things, they all watched a movie and eaten take out downstairs before deciding to return to their own rooms. Dan stayed down longer than PJ and Louise did so he could help Phil set up a makeshift bed for himself on the sofa. When they had finished and it was time for Dan to retire to Phil’s room, they both stood silent.

Dan felt an odd pull in his stomach at the thought of leaving Phil down here. It felt wrong, like going to bed with your shoes on. He wrote it off as just his body being upset by the disturbance in his routine. He was a creature of habit and he just hadn’t adjusted to the new arrangement now that he actually lived here.

“So,” Phil said, breaking the silence as they both stood at opposite ends of the sofa. “You’re eye doesn’t look so bad now.”

“It looks pretty bad, Phil,” Dan said, smiling at his friend’s attempt at making him feel better.

“Yeah, I know. But you kind of look tough with it. I wouldn’t mess with you,” Phil chuckled.

“That’s only because you know I could totally take you down,” Dan replied.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Buster,” Phil said, attempting to sound threatening.

“Buster?” Dan asked, breaking up into laughter.

“Shut up,” Phil said, pouting. “Don’t make fun of me.”

Dan reigned in his giggles and tried his best to look solemn. “I’m sorry that your tough guy talk is funny.”

“Go to bed already,” Phil said, shooing him away.

Dan nodded and started towards the stairs, though every fiber of his being wanted him to go back and curl up on the couch with Phil. “Goodnight, Phil. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Dan,” Phil said, taking off his glasses and putting them on the coffee table.

Dan crawled into Phil’s bed, pulling the covers up to his chin and nuzzling his face into the pillow, breathing in the smell of Phil’s shampoo. He was tired, it had been a long day, and he should have fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, but for some reason, he just couldn’t get comfortable. The room was too quiet, and though the bed was comfortable, he was restless, tossing and turning, trying to find a position he could fall asleep in. He lay there for what felt like hours, but when he checked the clock, found it had only been about 45 minutes. He picked up his phone and opened his text conversation with Phil out of instinct, but he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. He began to type “You awake?” but before he hit send, there was a quiet tap at the bedroom door.

“Yes?” he called in a loud whisper.

“Hey, it’s me,” Phil’s said, his voice muffled through the door.

“Come in,” Dan answered.

“Were you awake?” Phil asked as he closed the door softly behind him.

“Well, obviously,” Dan said, rolling his eyes and putting his hands behind his head.

“I was worried I woke you,” Phil said, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

“You ok?” Dan asked, sitting up on his elbows to get a better look at Phil.

“How lame is it if I say I couldn’t sleep?” Phil responded.

“I couldn’t either,” Dan said, shrugging.

“How lame is it if I say I couldn’t sleep because I’ve gotten so used to you being there that I couldn’t get comfortable without you there?” Phil asked, picking at the duvet’s stitching as he spoke.

Dan scooted over so he was closer to the wall and patted the bed next to him.

“You sure?” Phil asked, already climbing in the space Dan had just vacated.

“Yeah,” Dan said, turning towards Phil as he lay down. “Why do you think I couldn’t sleep?”

“The same reason?”

“Bingo.”

Phil smiled at him, reaching out to brush the hair from Dan’s face. His smile faltered as his fingers brushed Dan’s forehead above his right eye. “This is my fault,” he whispered, his hand falling to the bed.

“How is it your fault?”

“The way I act around you.”

Dan felt as though he had been punched in the gut. “What do you mean?” Dan asked, his voice cracking.

“I act like I like you,” Phil answered.

“You’re supposed to like me, I’m your friend,” Dan said, choosing to ignore what he felt was the obvious implication behind Phil’s words. He wanted it to be spelled out for him, so he could be one hundred percent sure.

“You know what I mean,” Phil said, pushing his own hair back from his forehead.

“Yeah,” Dan replied, nodding. His heart felt as though it was beating out of his chest like a Bugs Bunny cartoon. “Why do you act that way?” Dan knew he was pushing it with the naive act, but he needed to hear him say it to believe it. He felt like he was dreaming. Maybe he was.

“You know the answer to that, too,” Phil answered, a blush rising to his cheeks.

“I don’t,” Dan insisted.

“You’re serious? How much more obvious could I be about how I feel, Dan?”

“Well, you could tell me for starters,” Dan prompted. He felt like he was going to be sick. Everything since he got to University seemed to culminate in this moment. It felt like everything bad about this place, about himself, could be fixed if Phil said what Dan hoped he would, and if not fixed it could be at least be bearable. Because he would have Phil. Not just has a friend, but for his own. He counted the seconds of silence, each seeming like a millennia, as he waited for Phil to respond.

Except Phil didn’t say anything. Not at first. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss into Dan’s forehead, then pulled away, holding Dan’s face in both of his hands, studying it, as though he would find the words he wanted to say hidden somewhere in Dan’s eyes or his dimple or his lips.

Finally, Phil answered him.

“You’re just so damn important, Dan. Not just to me, but in everything. I can tell. You are an important human being, I knew that the moment I set eyes on you the first day of term. Something about you is special. And maybe you could argue that I think that way about you because I’m-” Phil cut himself off, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, bracing himself to say what he was about to say next. Dan’s eyes stung, begging him to blink away the tears currently welling up in them, but he couldn’t bear to take his eyes off Phil and miss something, not even for a fraction of a second. “Maybe I feel this way about you because I am in love with you,” Phil said, the words tumbling out of his mouth like an avalanche, “but I don’t believe at love at first sight and I knew you were just this impossibly special person the moment I set eyes on you. It would be impossible to know you and not fall in love with you, Dan. At least for me. And I hope this doesn’t make things uncomfortable for us, because I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t around, I mean I can’t even sleep if I’m not in the same room as you, that’s how far gone I am, but if you don’t want-”

Dan let out a rather loud laugh even though he was sure there were tears streaming down his face in that moment. Phil stopped speaking, looking down at Dan in shock.

“What?” Phil asked, his eyes filled with fear.

“If you think that my reaction to this would be anything other than positive, you are just as dumb as I am,” Dan whispered, wiping tears away from his good eye. “I’ve been trying not to let myself fall in love with you for two months because I thought you wouldn’t want that. It didn’t work. Shows you what I know.”

“Oh.”

“We’re both really fucking stupid, aren’t we? Everyone knew. Louise talked to me for all five minutes before she called me out on it,” Dan said, giggling.

“I guess we’re both just a little oblivious,” Phil agreed.

“Who would have thought, all I needed to do was get punched in the face for you to confess your love for me,” Dan joked. “If I had known that, I would have gotten punched in the face a lot sooner.”

“No!” Phil protested. “I would have told you eventually…”

“Yeah, when?”

“I don’t know,” Phil admitted sheepishly.

They both remained quiet for a few moments before Dan asked, “So are you going to kiss me or what?”

Phil broke into a huge smile. “What does ‘or what’ entail? Sounds enticing,” he teased.

“Just kiss me, you spoon,” Dan urged, tugging Phil towards him by the shirt.

And with that kiss, chaste and innocent as it was, Dan knew everything was going to be all right.

 


	8. Epilogue

_We'll all float on okay/ Don't worry, even if things end up a bit too heavy,/  We'll all float on alright.-_ Float On, Modest Mouse

__****  
  


“Phil?” Dan called into the flat, closing the door behind him. “You home?”

“Bedroom!” Phil’s voice called back, muffled through the wall.

Dan dropped his backpack on the couch and hurried back to the bedroom they shared in their new flat. It was small, but it was theirs. He found Phil stood on a chair, reaching up to water a house plant situated on a shelf high up on the wall.

“How’d the meeting go?” Phil asked, looking over his shoulder and smiling.

“I declared!” Dan answered excitedly. He had just met with the head of the English department and finalized his paperwork to declare his major. “You’re looking at a real adult with a sort of game plan.”

“English, like we talked about?” Phil asked, hopping down from the chair, careful not to spill any of the water in the glass he was holding.

“English major with a minor in theatre,” Dan said proudly. He had finally declared his major and had sort of an idea for a career path. He was going to attempt to be a playwright, and if that didn’t work out, he was going to be an English or Drama teacher, or perhaps all three. At least he had some options.

“I’m so proud of you, Dan,” Phil gushed as he rushed over to hug him. “Well, let’s celebrate, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” Dan said, shrugging shyly. “It’s not a huge deal, I-”

“Dan, this is a huge deal. The you I met six months ago would never have been able to make the decision. We’re going to celebrate and you’re going to like it,” Phil insisted, kissing Dan on the cheek before moving on to the next plant that needed watering. It was the plant on one of the bedside tables in a grungy old pot that had “Howell” scrawled across the side in sharpie. The dahlia that had originally been planted it in it had lived a very short, sickly life, but the fern currently residing in it was thriving. Probably because Dan had nothing to do with its upkeep.

“We could get a pizza and just hang out here,” Dan suggested. He hated having to choose the plans for the night, so he always chose ones he knew Phil would shoot down.

Phil rolled his eyes at Dan. “Pizza is only celebrating if you’re a ten year old having a birthday party, Dan. What do you want to do really?”

“Just hang out with you,” Dan insisted, walking up behind Phil and hugging him, kissing his neck gently.

“You’re such a nerd,” Phil said, but he didn’t resist.

“A nerd that you love,” Dan pointed out.

“You’re not wrong,” Phil agreed. “Fine, we can stay in.”

“Thank you,” Dan said, squeezing Phil tighter for a moment before letting go. He flopped down on the bed they shared and watched Phil finish watering multitude of houseplants he insisted on keeping. The guy loved plants, and Dan loved him, so he didn’t mind. Dan felt a sudden surge of warmth fill his body as he watched Phil go about his business, carefully making sure each plant got what it needed. If he had been able to go back six months and tell his past self where he was today, he wouldn’t have believed it. Sure, he still had a lot of work to do, and he wasn’t completely convinced that he wasn’t the worst human on the planet; some days, he was still pretty convinced he was, but having someone like Phil, someone who was always trying to show him the good while still listening and trying to understand the bad that Dan saw in the world, it really did make his life better. He couldn’t think of a place in the world he would rather be than right there, at home, loved, and so sure that even if things took a turn for the worst, he would be ok. They would be ok.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this is next level cheesy, but it was the best I could do. Oh well.


End file.
